


Portions of Eternity

by FrogCollector



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Wolfwalkers (2020)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship, Heretical Academic Theories, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Rating for language and future violence, References to Once Upon a Time in the North, Rescue Missions, Werewolves (sort of), Wolfwalkers, Wolves, lots of wolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 100,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrogCollector/pseuds/FrogCollector
Summary: Short summary: daemons crossed with werewolves.Longer summary: His Dark Materials AU. Aeronaut Lee Scoresby and his daemon Hester are headed to the city of Oxford after hearing that their old friend Iorek Byrnison, the armoured bear, is working there for coin. When they arrive, they learn that the town council, backed by the Magisterium, is waging war on the wolves living in the nearby forest. There are rumours of wolfwalkers living in the forest… magical beings who can communicate with wolves and even turn into them. Lee is sceptical, but when he comes to the rescue of wild girl Lyra, he joins her in her search for her missing father… and becomes drawn into the world of the wolfwalkers in ways he never imagined.Disclaimer: this world was created by Philip Pullman. It's not mine and never will be, I'm just playing in it.
Comments: 39
Kudos: 59





	1. Oxford

The morning mist hung opalescent over the countryside, catching the sun’s early rays and making the landscape glow. The balloon, also suspended in mid-air, glided almost as quietly as the mist towards the city in the distance. The balloon’s aeronaut paused in his tinkering to glance at the city, its spires shining golden. His daemon, a rangy hare, hopped up on a crate to peer over the edge of the balloon’s basket too.

‘Sure is pretty,’ said the daemon.

‘It sure is, Hester,’ replied the aeronaut. ‘Though if the rumours are true, and Iorek’s down there, I don’t think he came for the scenery.’

He swung himself with practised ease onto the rim of the basket to stare down at the city of Oxford, home to some of the world’s greatest experimental theologians, a great university and, if some Skraeling barflies were to be believed, an armoured bear whose natural habitat was the ice and tundra of the arctic, thousands of miles away from the golden stone and surrounding fields and verdant forest.

The Skraelings had crossed themselves when mentioning Oxford. They’d claimed the place was home to monstrous beasts, men-wolves who were neither one thing nor the other, who wore their fur on the inside. The aeronaut had literally bitten his tongue to keep from chortling.

‘So, why do you think he’s here, Lee? Assuming he is here, and it wasn’t that whisky you bought those men doing the talking,’ Hester asked.

‘Can’t rightly say,’ the aeronaut, whose full name was Lee Scoresby, answered. ‘But he’s up to something if he is. We’d better go lend a hand.’

Hester sighed.

‘And here was me thinking that we might get some peace after our dealings with those witches,’ she grumbled. ‘I shoulda known better. When are you going to find some honest employment, Lee? I wouldn’t ask but you’re running mighty low on coin. We gotta eat sometimes.’

‘Don’t worry, Hester,’ Lee grinned, leaping back down into the basket and stroking her ears. ‘There’s bound to be work for an aeronaut down there. I just want to check on Iorek, is all. We owe that bear our lives.’

‘I know we do,’ Hester acknowledged. ‘But he may not appreciate our barging in on him. Folks in trouble don’t always welcome meddling.’

‘Who said anything about meddling?’ Lee asked, mock-indignant. ‘We’re just going to check up on him, is all.’

Hester shook herself, mottled fur quivering.

‘You keep telling yourself that, Lee,’ she drawled as Lee pulled at a lever, commencing their descent. ‘You keep telling yourself that.’

###

Travelling to Oxford wasn’t the smooth and easy journey it was in the wild, half-lawless fishing towns and trappers’ outposts of the far North. Lee knew there would be a designated airfield, plenty of guards and a plethora of paperwork to contend with were he to try and land his balloon within the city precincts.

Happily, a sailor acquaintance who’d begun his sailing career on coal barges meandering down the canals between Manchester and London, had given Lee the name of a local farmer who was willing to stow small aircraft in an old barn, no questions asked, for a moderate sum.

Lee and Hester skated at a low height over the countryside, following the course of the river Isis, causing a commotion among the local children who spied their progress, prompting shrieks and waves of amazement, until Hester’s sharp golden eyes spotted the green-painted farmhouse they’d been told of. Lee dropped anchor in the farmyard in front of the house, and a ruddy-cheeked, sturdy man with a badger for a daemon came out of the house and greeted the stranger and his balloon without an iota of surprise.

Within an hour, a deal had been struck and Lee’s balloon stowed safely in an old, dusty but spacious barn. It had cost Lee nearly all his remaining money, but he was in a chipper mood as he and Hester strolled down the road towards Oxford. No matter how refined the city, there was sure to be a tavern or two with a less than respectable clientele and a few card games going on. Lee had the Devil’s knack at cards, as even Hester admitted.

Half-an-hour’s walk brought them to the outskirts of the city. Lee eschewed the more elegant streets where the scholars and wealthy businesspeople strolled, and made his way to the trading district surrounding the canal basin, where the barges from Manchester and Bristol were unloaded and reloaded, and where the farriers and tanners and furniture-makers and butchers and clockmakers kept their workshops.

A quick word in the ear of one of the local urchins, and Lee knew that yes, there was a _panserbjørn_ in Oxford, renting space in a blacksmith’s forge and doing astonishing things with iron for mere cents. His arrival, just over a month ago, had caused a sensation, and much hand-wringing from the authorities, but the bear had caused no trouble, keeping very much to himself and shunning all approaches from scholars, businessmen and rubberneckers. The novelty had almost worn off by now, and most people gave him a wide berth.

Lee offered the scrap a golden dollar if he’d lead them to the _panserbjørn_ , an offer which made the boy’s eyes bug from his head and caused his daemon to turn into a parrot and squawk in excitement. Ten minutes later, Lee and Hester found themselves outside the smith’s, a capacious tin-roofed shed with whitewashed walls. A bored-looking policeman, evidently assigned sentry duty, lounged on the opposite pavement, a decent distance from the forge. Even from the street, the grunts and growls of some massive creature could be heard.

Lee grinned and tossed the boy his dollar. The urchin gave him a quick salute and scurried off, dog-daemon trotting alongside. Lee watched them go, and then stepped forward and rapped smartly on the shed’s wooden door.

‘Enter,’ someone within snarled.

Lee swung the door open and propped himself against the jamb, surveying the scene. It was cool and shady in the shed, and there was nothing but ashes in the great fireplace that dominated an entire wall. Bears needed no fire for their metalwork. Nor were there any tools to be seen, not even a hammer for beating the metal. Instead, there was a mighty _panserbjørn_ crouched in the centre of the room, encased in his armour, intent on the panel for some vehicle he was shaping with his gargantuan paws.

‘‘Lo, Iorek,’ said Lee. ‘Wasn’t expecting to see you here.’

Iorek showed no surprise at this, not even pausing in his work.

‘Lee Scoresby,’ he acknowledged, nodding his massive head at the aeronaut. ‘What brings you to Oxford?’

‘Heard a rumour you were in town,’ Lee remarked, leaving his post and strolling into the shed. It was shady in there, but he could see Iorek’s eyes glinting, sharp and serious. ‘Wasn’t sure I believed it, but here you are.’

‘Here I am,’ the bear grunted, lowering his eyes to his craft.

‘What are you doing here?’ Lee asked, keeping his voice light. ‘Working, I can see that, but why? For what?

‘For coin,’ the great bear grumbled.

 _That_ gave Lee pause.

‘Coin?’ he repeated, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. ‘Iorek, you don’t give two snaps for coin. Never heard of a bear that did. You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?’

At last, the great paws fell still and Iorek looked up, looked Lee in the face. For a long moment, they were frozen in tableau. Then Iorek spoke.

‘I am in no trouble, Lee Scoresby,’ he said. ‘I am here for a purpose, one that does not involve coin. But neither does it involve you. Good day to you. I hope your visit here is a fruitful one.’

Lee, curiosity raging, wanted to stay and question the bear further, but Hester was pressing herself against his leg, a clear warning. So, he tipped his hat to Iorek, and strolled out of the forge, acting casual for the sake of the policeman. He was conscious that Iorek’s acute ears were tracking his progress, making sure he was going as requested.

They made it all the way back to the hubbub of the canal basin before Hester spoke.

‘That went well,’ she remarked dryly.

‘Something’s up, Hester,’ Lee answered as they strode along, dodging deliverymen and stacks of crates. ‘Iorek’s got something on his mind. Reckon we should stick around a while and find out what it is.’

‘Why not?’ Hester offered. ‘We’re stuck here until you earn some money, anyway.’

###

Lee strolled alongside the canal, exchanging pleasantries with the workmen and a Gyptian or two, looking for a likely place of employment. He was contemplating a prosperous-looking brick factory when he felt Hester tugging at his trouser leg.

He glanced down and saw Hester nodding at a young man standing in the midst of a group of even younger men, boys really, gesticulating with a sharp hunting knife and reckless disregard for eyeballs and nostrils.

‘That kid says the town council is hiring hunters,’ Hester told him. ‘Something about clearing out the forest nearby. Seems they have a wolf problem. Good rates of pay.’

Lee raised an eyebrow. He was an experienced hunter, having started by shooting rabbits on the Texan prairies and then whatever was around for dinner on his many voyages to the north. He’d never hunted wolves, however. They avoided humans for the most part, and there were easier ways of making money than tracking and trapping them for fur. And truthfully, Lee _liked_ wolves. He admired their toughness, their wildness.

‘Not really my line of work,’ he remarked to Hester.

‘Couldn’t hurt to make enquiries.’

Lee shrugged and strolled up to the group of youths.

‘‘Scuse me, gentlemen,’ he said, and their chattering ceased with amusing speed. ‘Heard you discussing a hunt that’s being organised. You say you’ve got a wolf problem on your doorstep?’

The young man with the knife, his frill-necked lizard daemon perched on his shoulder, turned to face Lee, a cocky smile plastered on his face.

‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘They’re a menace. They’ve been killing sheep, cattle, even attacked a few people. The council want men to hunt them down. I’m going to sign up this afternoon.’

‘Where are they hiring?’ Lee asked.

‘The town hall,’ one of the knife-man’s audience piped up, his lapwing daemon peering between his legs at Lee and Hester. ‘They’re trying to recruit at least twenty-four men.’

Lee whistled.

‘That many, huh?’ he said. ‘These must be some wolves you’re tangling with. Never knew a wolf hunt that needed that many men.’

‘Well, perhaps you’re not used to hunting wolves,’ the young man with the knife chimed in, jabbing the point in Lee’s direction.

‘Says who?’ Lee grinned, moving one foot back a little, to be ready for a fight should these boys care to pick one. He doubted it, however. They couldn’t appear more callow if they had tried. He regarded the knifeman with a practised eye. The kid didn’t know how to use that knife – he was holding it too far away from his body and his grip on the handle was awkward.

‘If I were you, kid, I’d give this a miss,’ he said to the knifeman. ‘I don’t think you’ll kill many wolves with that blade. You couldn’t slice a loaf of bread, the way you hold it.’

A couple of snickers sounded. Lee heard Hester mutter something that sounded suspiciously like ‘good going, Lee.’ The young man with the knife bridled.

‘Why? Think you’re better’n me? You think you’ve got what it takes?’ he sneered. ‘Listen, Texan, you may be flashy, but these wolves are vicious. They’ll tear you limb from limb.’

‘You don’t say,’ Lee drawled. ‘Sounds like fun. I’ll take my chances, young fella. Done some hunting in my time.’

The kid regarded him a little apprehensively, shaken by Lee’s insouciance. But with all his friends watching him, he wasn’t inclined to back down.

‘These wolves aren’t for the faint-hearted,’ he continued, still pointing the knife at Lee. The aeronaut regarded the weapon with mild apprehension. Lee wasn’t afraid of a brawl, but knives, even in the hands of fools, demanded respect.

‘These wolves are big as calves,’ the boy continued. ‘They move like lightning, fast and deadly. Like _so_ –’

He lunged at Lee with the knife. Perhaps he’d only intended to scare the Texan, but Lee took being stabbed somewhat personal. He stepped neatly to the side, grabbed the kid’s wrist and twisted his arm towards his shoulder. The boy yelped and his fingers slackened. Lee took the knife from him and threw it with force into the wooden door of a nearby workshop. The point sank into the wood, and the knife stuck there, trembling with the force of the throw.

‘Do yourself a favour, kid, and don’t poke a knife at people in future,’ Lee said to his flinching captive. His voice was quiet and intent, and there was a note in it that made the young men watching shudder. ‘Cause sooner or later someone’ll take it amiss.’

He shoved the young man away, and the boy crouched, whimpering as he massaged his wrist, the lizard daemon hissing at Lee. The aeronaut tipped his hat to the wide-eyed onlookers regarding him with newfound respect, and strolled away, one ear primed for the sounds of pursuit.

They were two streets away before Hester gave the all-clear.

‘All mouth and no balls,’ she pronounced. ‘Shouldn’t think they’ll be any trouble in future. You probably did the kid a service. He’ll think twice now before he goes looking for trouble.’

‘Let’s hope so,’ Lee muttered. ‘Come on, let’s find the town hall.’

‘You’re going to sign up?’

‘Maybe,’ Lee said. ‘First, I want to find out what’s so terrible about these wolves that it’s gonna take two dozen men to handle them.’

###

Oxford Town Hall was, like the colleges, built in golden stone with elaborate, elegant decoration that screamed money and good taste. Lee felt decidedly out-of-place strolling up the steps and into the main hall, which was panelled in dark wood and decorated with paintings that probably cost more than his balloon.

Despite that, when he mentioned the wolf hunting to the clerk at the front desk, the woman nodded and without hesitation directed him to a conference room a few doors down.

Lee found it within moments, and, unabashed, pressed his ear to the wood, Hester doing likewise. The wood was too thick for him to hear much, only the rumble of voices. So, he stepped back and knocked.

The door was swung open by a nervous lackey dressed all in black, his jay daemon crouched on his shoulder. Lee regarded him with some surprise, not at all pleasant. The man wore no insignia, but Lee knew a Magisterium stooge when he saw one.

He stepped further into the room, which was dominated by a vast mahogany table, polished to a blinding sheen. However, there were only two people currently seated at it: a small grey-haired man, also dressed in black save for the ceremonial sash and weighty golden chain draped around his neck, and a beautiful woman, her golden monkey daemon perched on the back of her ornately carved chair.

‘Ah,’ said the small man, his voice light and pleasant, though his expression was one of polite distaste. ‘Another hunter, I take it?’

‘Lee Scoresby at your service,’ said Lee, removing his hat. He nodded politely at the woman. ‘Ma’am.’

‘I am Alderman Jasper Danvers,’ said the man. ‘This is Mrs Marisa Coulter. We are assembling a party of huntsman to eliminate the wolves living in Badbury Forest. We need twenty-four men, and we have acquired thirteen. We are dispatching them in small groups at present, to keep the wolves at bay, but are planning a much larger operation when we have sufficient resources. We require experienced hunters, and you will be expected to supply your own rifle. However, we will compensate you for ammunition expended. We hope to commence the main hunt within the next fortnight, once the fairer spring weather sets in.’

Lee nodded. So far, so predictable.

‘Rates of pay?’ he enquired.

Alderman Danvers named a sum that made even Hester’s nose quiver in shock. Lee whistled.

‘These must be some wolves you’re tangling with,’ he remarked. Alderman Danvers sniffed.

‘They are… troublesome,’ he conceded. ‘The wolf population has been growing unchecked in recent years, and they are posing a threat to both humans and livestock. These are not your typical cowardly mutts, Mr Scoresby. They are large, cunning, and vicious beyond belief.’

Lee raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘All due respect, Mr Danvers –’

‘ _Alderman_ Danvers,’ the man interrupted, his lemming-daemon squeaking in annoyance from its vantage-point on his chair arm.

‘Yeah, well, in my experience wolves tend not to attack humans ‘less they’re provoked. Makes me wonder whether it’s wolves you’re hunting, or if there’s something else out there.’

The monkey-daemon stirred, springing from the chair to land on the table, fixing Lee and Hester with a gimlet-eyed glare. Mrs Coulter, whose pleasant, welcoming expression never faltered, laid a hand on the daemon’s back, and it subsided, sitting down and staring at the weak sunlight streaming in at the windows, illuminating little more than dust motes.

Lee paid it no mind, for he knew that Hester had her golden eyes trained on the daemon like a gunsight and would see all there was to see.

‘It’s true, we are taking extreme precautions,’ said Mrs Coulter, her voice sweet and caressing. ‘These wolves lurking in Badbury Forest are not the same as the animals you may have encountered previously, Mr Scoresby. They display a level of intelligence unprecedented in wild beasts, as well as an inclination to kill for pleasure, not merely for food or self-defence. The safety of this city is at stake, and we are taking no chances.’

Lee nodded, pretending to accept this. He recalled the stories told by the Skraelings and wondered if these vicious wolves were the men-wolves they’d told tall tales about.

‘Mind my asking what your role in this is, ma’am?’ he queried bluntly. ‘No offence, but you don’t strike me as the hunting type.’

‘Nor am I,’ she said graciously, not the slightest bit discomposed. ‘I represent certain interested parties, who wish to know why these wolves are so unusual and what might have prompted such… evolution.’

‘Can I enquire about these “interested parties” ma’am?’ Lee prompted. Mrs Coulter smiled but shook her head.

‘I don’t mind, but I shall be unable to answer in any great detail. My employer is supporting this venture on conditions of strict anonymity. But I can tell you that they are a great supporter of conservation work, endeavouring to preserve endangered animals, and should it emerge they are supporting a wolf hunt…’

Mrs Coulter finished her sentence with another smile rather than a full stop. Lee regarded her with interest mingled with caution. She was a stunning woman, and Lee was not immune to beauty, but there was a hardness to her features that he found slightly repellent.

‘I understand,’ Lee answered her, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to show agreement. ‘I kinda like wolves, myself.’

‘As do I,’ nodded Mrs Coulter. ‘It is a shame this course of action has become necessary. I admire such beautiful beasts.’

‘That explains your snow leopard pet,’ Alderman Danvers muttered, with the air of a man addressing an old grievance. The smile left Mrs Coulter’s face as if it had been cut off, and she gave the Alderman a look that could have etched glass. Even Lee, who was tough as an old buzzard, couldn’t suppress a shiver.

‘Are you interested in participating or not?’ Alderman Danvers demanded of Lee, pale with frustration.

‘I’ll have to consider,’ Lee said affably. ‘You’re offering good money, but I’m mighty attached to my hide, and I don’t know that I want to risk it on this hunt. Good day, Mr Danvers, ma’am.’

He turned on his heel and left, the Magisterium representative almost leaping aside in his haste to open the door. Lee grinned as he heard Alderman Danvers sputtering in indignation. He waited till they were back in the street before he turned to Hester.

‘I’m glad you said no,’ Hester said without preamble. ‘That monkey-daemon gave me the heebie-jeebies. And that woman… “certain interested parties,” well, that’s a red flag if ever there was one.’

‘Something’s going on, for certain,’ Lee agreed. ‘I don’t think it’s wolves they’re hunting out there. It’s a cover story for something shady. I vote we steer clear. Come on, let’s see if there’s a poker game going on somewhere.’

‘Here we go again,’ Hester said wryly, and Lee laughed as they made their way back to the trading district.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this far, then I should tell you this story was inspired by the stunning animated film Wolfwalkers (2020), which I managed to watch online as part of the BFI Film Festival. It's the story of a wolf-hunter's daughter who encounters the wolfwalkers of the title, magical beings whose spirits leave their human bodies when they sleep and turn into wolves. While still in the blissful haze that comes after watching a superb film, I thought 'I wonder what would happen if people with daemons could be wolfwalkers.' This story arrived, almost fully formed, in my brain, and refused to leave until I wrote it down. There's more to come.
> 
> Disclaimer: book fans, be warned, Lee is going to be a bit OOC in this AU. I had Lin-Manuel Miranda’s portrayal of him in mind throughout my writing and took further inspiration from Pullman’s short story Once Upon a Time in the North. He’s younger (I imagined him in his late thirties), more of a rogue and a bit volatile, rather than the grizzled veteran of the books. It just fit what I was aiming for. (Hester’s still his better half, however).
> 
> Further disclaimer: while I was writing this, I 'cast' the characters in my head to help me write them. My casting is as follows.
> 
> Lee Scoresby - Lin-Manuel Miranda  
> Mrs Coulter - Ruth Wilson (always and forever)  
> Alderman Danvers - Tom Hollander (you've almost certainly seen him even if you don't recognise the name. He was Cutler Beckett in Pirates of the Caribbean). 
> 
> See you next time, dear readers!


	2. Badbury Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee breaks curfew and, as usual, finds more than he bargained for.

Three hours and several winning hands later, Lee and Hester bid farewell to several disgruntled locals who’d had their pockets emptied, and were just going in search of an inn for some food and a place to lay their heads when Lee heard his name being called – growled, really.

He turned to find Iorek lurking, or at least attempting to lurk, in an alleyway. Lee watched with amusement as several pedestrians veered off course as they spied the _panserbjørn_ , turning around and scurrying away like ants.

‘Afternoon, Iorek,’ Lee said, sauntering over. ‘Have you struck work for the day? Maybe we could trade stories over a campfire, the way we did back in Tungusk.’

‘I heard you went to the town hall, to sign up as a hunter,’ Iorek said, ignoring the invitation. ‘Did you agree to hunt wolves for the Council?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Lee answered willingly enough. ‘Something about the whole set-up just seemed… off. I decided it wasn’t worth the risk.’

Iorek nodded.

‘Good. I’m glad,’ he said. ‘The Council tried to recruit me when I first arrived in the city, but I too declined. You are right, Lee, something strange is happening in those woods and in this city, though I am not sure what it is.’

‘Fancy getting some food and discussing it?’ Lee suggested.

‘I will gladly dine with you. I have an arrangement with a butcher for fresh meat. But we cannot camp as we did in the north. There is a curfew upon this town – no-one leaves the city precincts after ten of the clock until six o’clock the next morning, except by special permission of the city council,’ Iorek told him, steely tones making it clear what he thought of _that_ stricture.

‘A curfew? You gotta be kidding me,’ Lee exclaimed, dismayed. ‘What the hell for?’

‘To protect the citizens from the wolves, or so the Council claims,’ Iorek said. ‘The Council is already dispatching hunting parties each night, to try and kill the wolves. They have had no success so far, and people are growing restive.’

‘Can’t say as I blame them,’ Lee muttered. ‘Come on, Iorek, let’s find some dinner and trade battle stories back at your forge. By the way, where’s this Badbury Forest? It seems to be the focus of all the trouble.’

‘A mile to the west of the city,’ Iorek answered, manoeuvring his bulk with difficulty out of the alley and striding off through the city streets. Lee followed, Hester at his side, her muttered, ‘damn it, Lee,’ so quiet that only Lee heard it.

###

It was almost midnight when Lee and Hester made their way to the city limits, creeping soft-footed through the shadows.

‘Whatever happened to “steering clear,” Lee?’ Hester grumbled as they snaked through a private garden and over a low wall.

‘I just want to take a look at this forest, see what’s got everyone here so riled up,’ Lee whispered.

‘Yeah, right,’ Hester murmured back. ‘You just want to break bounds. Never could keep you out of anything that had a _no entry_ sign on it.’

This was inarguable, so Lee didn’t argue.

‘Come on, Hester,’ he said, trying his damnedest to sound reasonable. ‘You’re telling me you’re not the slightest bit curious about what’s happening here? Even Iorek couldn’t tell us anything – or wouldn’t. It’s not like him to be this secretive.’

‘Sure, I’m curious,’ Hester sniffed. ‘Just don’t see why it’s always us that has to do the snooping round.’

‘Well, it doesn’t look like anyone else is going to,’ Lee remarked.

Silence descended as they crouched low and darted across a narrow stone bridge, then into the dark country lanes that twisted round and snarled up the countryside surrounding Oxford. It was fortunate it was a clear night, with a half-moon illuminating the land with gentle white light, otherwise Lee would have been as good as blind. The anbaric streetlights ended at the city limits, and he didn’t dare use a torch to light his way.

Despite the dark, it was a short journey to Badbury Forest. It loomed up before them suddenly, the boundary between the woods and the fields as sharp and unforgiving as a sword.

At first, it looked like an unyielding black hulk, the side of a ship perhaps, or an ancient castle. But then their eyes began to adjust, and the blackness resolved itself into the trunks of individual trees, their leaves whispering in the cool night breeze. A dirt path that started almost at their feet, lit by the moon, twined away through the woods. Inviting them.

Lee hesitated then, the impulse to investigate fading. Woodlands at night were no joke to navigate, even in the midst of the English countryside. Surprisingly, it was Hester who loped forward.

‘Come on,’ she whispered. ‘We’ve come too far to stop now. Just make sure you’ve got your revolver handy.’

Lee undid his holster, and together they stepped onto the path.

They wandered through the woods for perhaps an hour and saw and heard nothing untoward. The twit-twoo of a couple of owls, the rustle of leaves underfoot, a flicker of movement at the limit of Lee’s vision as some small creature fled his approach.

Lee was just thinking of retracing their steps and calling it a night when Hester halted so suddenly that he nearly tripped over her.

‘There’s something watching us. Dead ahead,’ she murmured to him. ‘Go slow, now.’

Lee followed her gaze. At first, he could see nothing but the outlines of trees and undergrowth, blurred by the night into splodges of grey and purple and deepest brown. Then his eyes, trained by years of flying miles above the earth and navigating by the stars, saw it.

A wolf. A small wolf by wolfish standards, its shoulder not much higher than Lee’s knee. It was slender, in a way that hinted at youth rather than starvation. It was concealing itself against a patch of brambles, holding so still as to be almost invisible. If Hester hadn’t been on the lookout, they would have walked right past it, none the wiser.

Lee frowned slightly. It was difficult to tell in the half-light cast by moon and stars, but the wolf’s fur seemed to be an unusual shade. It looked light, the dull sheen of old gold, rather than the grey and white Lee was used to seeing on wild wolves in the north.

‘It’s a wolf,’ he whispered to Hester.

‘I can see that Lee. Why’s it just standing there?’

‘Probably because we’re just standing here, too,’ Lee muttered. He stared at the wolf, staring at them. ‘What’s got the Council so riled up about a wolf like that? I don’t think it’s minded to do us any harm.’

As his voice faded into the night, the wolf moved. In one graceful, sinuous movement, it flowed from the shelter of the bramble thicket to stand before them on the path, regarding them with great dark sceptical eyes.

There was a movement in the thicket, as if something had startled, but when Lee flicked a quick glance over there, he could discern nothing. So, he turned back the wolf. It didn’t appear vicious… just curious. Yet, it was remarkably strange for a wolf to be so bold. It was a beautiful animal, and the more Lee gazed upon it, the more remarkable it appeared. Its fur, a thousand gleaming colours ranging from honey to gold to pale daffodil, those compelling eyes, so vivid and not a trace of fear in their depths…

He felt drawn to it. He longed, fiercely, to stroke to creature’s head, to wrap his arms around it and shelter it, to murmur reassuring words in its pointed ears. There was no logical reason for the sensation – it was an unthinking, instinctive reaction to the wolf’s presence. Almost without realising it, Lee crouched down, extending his left hand, beckoning the wolf closer.

The wolf came, padding forward slowly, eyes never leaving Lee’s face. Even Hester was rapt, as the wolf sniffed at his outstretched fingers, and then butted its head against Lee’s hand.

A gunshot whiplashed through the night.

Lee started and lost his balance. He fell forward.

His abrupt movement panicked the wolf, and it snapped at his arm, teeth sinking through the leather of his coat to rip into flesh, to draw blood.

Lee cried out, more in shock than pain, and the wolf ran. A moment later, Lee and Hester might have been the only ones in the wood, for all was peaceful again, and the wolf had vanished.

Lee righted himself with his good arm, and peeled back his sleeve, hissing at the soreness, and tried to assess the damage – difficult in the dark. Hester came, pressed herself against his leg in reassurance and took a gander.

‘It’s not bad,’ she whispered. ‘A couple of nasty scratches, but I don’t think you’ll need more than a stitch or two. It wasn’t aiming to hurt you, or else you’d be a missing a hand right now.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lee, who was well aware of how powerful a wolf’s jaws were. He’d seen them sever a cow’s tail with one bite. He dug in his pocket for a handkerchief, and for a wonder he had one. He bound the injury as best he could, using a few strips torn from his shirt hem to staunch the blood, and rose to his feet.

‘We’d best get out of here,’ he said to Hester.

‘Best idea you’ve had all night,’ she grumbled. ‘Just go in the opposite direction from that gunshot. It didn’t sound too close, the sound carried because it’s so quiet at the minute.’

They hurried back the way they came, following the path, each keeping an eye out for further trouble.

But the trouble made itself known through sound, not sight. They had gone perhaps halfway, picking their way with care over tree roots and stones as the moon sank lower in the velvety sky, when they heard the scream.

It was high-pitched, shrill – and unmistakeably that of a child.

Lee froze, every nerve in his body thrilling and his stomach hollowed out from shock. But his terror lasted only for an instant. He recovered and turned in the direction the sound had emanated from.

Hester, who had likewise frozen from sudden fear, twitched her long ears.

‘That was a kid,’ she whispered. ‘Not far from here, either. Go slow, now.’

Lee took one deep breath and stepped off the path.

He and Hester weaved their way between the trees, Hester taking the lead, picking her way through the undergrowth, finding a safe route for Lee in the darkness. It was only a minute or two before she halted.

‘Stop, Lee!’ she hissed. ‘There’s a huge hole right in front of us. Something’s in it, I hear them struggling.’

She was right: Lee could make out a deep, impenetrable darkness, as impersonal as the space between stars, looming before him. And he could hear movement – something trapped, and scuffling.

‘Hold still, Lyra!’ someone was whispering, their tone frantic. ‘Someone’s coming!’

Lee dug in his pockets, deciding now was the time to risk an anbaric light. He found the torch and flicked it on, taking care to keep the beam pointed at the ground. It was what he wanted to examine anyway.

The beam found a large hole, six feet wide by at least eight feet deep, a real tiger-trap. But what it contained was no tiger. Instead, pressing herself against the far dirt wall, trying in vain to avoid the torch’s beam, was a young girl and her daemon.

Lee stared down at her. She didn’t look more than ten or eleven, and although like most children she was a scruffy article her clothes and oilskin coat were well-made and expensive. Despite her perilous situation, Lee couldn’t see any her sporting any injuries. But there was a feral aspect to her – her hair stuck out from her head in a wild tangle, she was crouched like an animal ready to spring, and she was actually baring her teeth at him. Her daemon, in the form of a great Alsatian dog, was by her side, snarling like a devil.

‘Well, hello, miss,’ Lee said. ‘How are you this pleasant evening?’

She quit grimacing at him, apparently from sheer surprise.

‘Fine,’ she answered shortly.

‘You don’t look fine,’ Lee observed.

‘I’ll be all right. Good night,’ she responded. Her daemon, listening to the strange exchange, ceased snarling and pressed closer to her.

‘You plan on getting yourself out of that man-trap?’ Lee queried. ‘That’ll be a sight worth seeing.’

‘It’s a _wolf_ trap, not a _man_ trap,’ the girl said, with the air of a teacher speaking to a particularly slow child.

‘My mistake. Want some assistance?’ Lee asked. This was evidently the wrong thing to say, as the girl scowled at him. And growled. She _growled_. Her daemon growled too; his hackles raised.

‘So you can lock me in a cage?’ the girl demanded.

‘Now why’d we want to do that?’ asked Hester, loping to the rim of the pit and peering down. The Alsatian-daemon regarded her with interest, forgetting to snarl.

‘You’re a hunter. There are hunters all through this forest, digging these pits,’ the girl answered, once again with the air of someone being forced to state the blindingly obvious. ‘They want to catch wolves, or anything that they find.’

‘Well, I’m no hunter, miss,’ Lee informed her. ‘Just a man out for a night-time stroll through the woods.’

The girl looked so supremely unimpressed by this statement that Lee couldn’t help chuckling. Even Hester’s ears twitched in amusement.

‘He’s lying!’ the girl’s daemon snapped, not sharing the joke.

‘True. Actually, I was snooping around, trying to find out what’s going on around here. Now, will you accept my help?’ Lee asked, figuring the conversation had gone on long enough.

The girl hesitated, her expression solidifying into mutiny. But then voices pricked at their ears – loud, eager voices, accompanied by the muffled _clop-clop_ of hooves on packed earth.

‘The alarm’s gone off, there must be something in there!’

‘Yeah, probably a rabbit you daft nonce. You think a real wolf would just fall in a hole? You’re imagining stuff that isn’t there. Like earlier, shooting at shadows.’

‘I thought I saw something, all right? Come on, let’s check the trap. Whatever it is, it’ll be worth a couple of dollars. More, if it’s a wolf.’

The girl’s bravado was wiped from her face, and she looked rather desperate. Lee didn’t hesitate. He stripped his coat off, grimacing in pain as he tugged it over his injured arm, and dangled it into the hole. The girl lunged and grabbed it, hanging on like a monkey, and Lee hauled her up. Her daemon turned into an owl and flew up to land on the edge of the pit, watching anxiously as the girl scrambled to comparative safety.

It was comparative because just as the girl was on firm ground, reaching for her owl-daemon in reassurance, two torch beams scythed through the night air, searching out the wolf-trap like a striking snake. Lee flicked his own torch off, grabbed the girl’s shoulder and hustled her and her daemon behind the nearest tree. She made a noise of protest, but he hushed her, putting his finger over his lips, and she went quiet.

All of them, man, girl and daemons, listened with straining ears to the sounds of two men dismounting, their horses snorting and stamping in the dark, and thrashing their way over to the pit.

‘Nothing,’ sighed one of them in disappointment.

‘No, look!’ said a new voice, probably a daemon. ‘The other side of the pit – those are shoe prints! Someone’s been prowling around here. Get looking for them. A trespasser will be worth thirty dollars from the Council.’

The men and their daemons began stomping through the woods again. Lee risked a glance round their shielding tree, and realised with relief that rather than moving around the pit in a pincer movement that would lead them directly to himself and the girl, they were both traipsing around the same side. He tapped the wild girl on the shoulder and gestured in the opposite direction. She nodded, and together they began creeping away.

They both ducked down low, trying to move swiftly while conversely not making any sudden movements, which was just as difficult as it sounded. But they made it to the opposite side of the pit, where the hunters’ horses were waiting patiently.

‘Someone’s definitely been here,’ said one hunter.

‘Two someones,’ said the other. ‘I don’t like it. Better call for reinforcements.’

He blew three short blasts on a whistle, and Lee cursed inwardly. Soon this section of woodland would be crawling with hunters and it would go very hard with him and the wild girl. Alderman Danvers didn’t strike Lee as the kind of man to go easy on a trespasser simply because she was a child.

He glanced at the horses, which were both brown, placid, stocky animals and made up his mind. He grabbed his fellow interloper by her coat and drew her to stand beside the nearest horse. He let go and formed his hands into a stirrup for her.

‘Come on,’ he whispered to the girl. ‘We’re riding out of here.’

The girl didn’t hesitate. Her daemon turned into a moth and flitted to land on her hair, while she placed her foot trustingly into Lee’s hands and let him lift her upwards until she could sling her leg over the horse’s back. The horse shuffled but made no other motion to protest his new rider. Lee bent to scoop up Hester, and then swung himself into the saddle behind his passenger. He hadn’t ridden in years – not since his last visit to Texas, in fact – but he remembered how to make the horse go, and stop, and how to hang on in-between.

He squeezed his heels into the horse’s sides and tugged at the reins to turn it about – no easy task in the woods, hemmed in on all sides by trees. But the obliging animal managed to wriggle round, and Lee urged it into a trot, and then, as he spied a clear path, a canter. The other horse, alarmed by its companion’s motion, followed after them, cantering along beside them for a few moments before it slowed, confused by its lack of rider. Shouts of anger and alarm sounded behind them, but they were well away – Lee, the wild girl and their daemons, riding to safety in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Badbury Forest actually exists - well, sort of. It's Badbury Woods in our world, which is a stone's throw from Oxford and has a history dating back to the Iron Age. In Lyra's world, the woods are much wilder and more extensive, hence the wolves (and a few other things...)
> 
> My mental casting again:
> 
> Lyra - Dafne Keen
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	3. The Scholar and Mrs Coulter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee and Hester do some spying on behalf of Iorek Byrnison, and overhear something shocking.

Lee gave the horse its head as they rode through the forest, trusting the animal to find a safe route through the eerie landscape. The valiant horse jogged along as requested, until they reached the edge of the woods. There was no sound of pursuit, and Lee pulled on the reins, slowing the puffing, sweating beast to a walk. They emerged into farmland, a grassy field sloping down before them to a winding road that curved round a hillside, pointing to the lights of Oxford in the distance.

‘Looks like we made it,’ Lee remarked, bringing the horse to a halt and dismounting. The girl did likewise but far less gracefully, her shorter legs dangling before she worked up the nerve to let go of the saddle and drop to the ground.

‘We’ve made it,’ the girl agreed. ‘I don’t hear anyone following.’

She hesitated, staring at Lee as he stooped to let Hester down.

‘Thank you, for helping me,’ she said, averting her eyes. ‘Those hunters are cruel. They skin everything they catch. They wouldn’t have shown me no mercy.’

‘You’re welcome, young lady,’ Lee answered. ‘They wouldn’t have shown me any mercy, either. Now, care to tell me your name?’

‘Lizzie,’ the girl said promptly. Lee raised a sceptical eyebrow.

‘Don’t try to hustle a hustler, kid,’ he said, voice dry. ‘I heard your daemon there calling you “Lyra.”’

The girl rolled her eyes.

‘Thanks, Pan,’ she said gruffly. Her daemon, in the form of a mouse, hunkered on her shoulder and tried to look as if he weren’t in trouble. ‘All right, fine. My name’s Lyra, and this is Pantalaimon.’

‘Lee Scoresby at your service, and this is Hester,’ replied the aeronaut, indicating Hester with a jerk of his head. ‘What the hell were you doing in the woods in the middle of the night, Lyra? Especially with hunters around. If it were during the day, I’d guess you were trespassing, same as me, but this is different.’

‘Why’d you care?’ Lyra asked, guardedly, her large dark eyes shining with suspicion.

‘Well, I reckon I just helped save you from a whole heap of trouble, and that kind of makes us kindred spirits, you and me,’ Lee remarked, leaning against the horse’s flank as he regarded her. ‘If you don’t believe that, then say you owe me one, for hauling you out of the frying pan.’

Lyra nodded, seeing the fairness in this.

‘I live in the forest,’ she said without preamble. ‘With my father. He’s a woodsman. He went out to hunt last evening and he’s late coming back. I went out to look for him and fell in the pit.’

Lee nodded.

‘So, whereabouts in the forest do you live?’ he asked. Lyra backed up a step or two, and Lee sighed.

‘Kid, I’m not gonna hurt you. But I can’t in good conscience let you go running around those woods by yourself. Not with those men wreaking havoc. You might not be so lucky next time.’

‘I’ll be all right,’ Lyra answered, with what seemed to Lee to be unmerited confidence. ‘I’ve lived in the woods for ages, I know how to keep out of trouble. I just got took by surprise tonight, they’re setting traps all over.’

‘You say your father’s missing,’ Lee persisted. ‘What if he needs help? What if _you_ need help?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Lyra repeated obstinately. Pantalaimon, in sparrow form, fluttered on her shoulder. ‘Honestly, I will. I got friends nearby.’

Lee wasn’t a hundred percent sure he believed her but knew that pressing the matter would be useless. With another sigh, he made to put his coat – which he was still carrying – back on, but his left arm was smarting damnably from his exertions, and he hissed in pain.

Lyra was by his side in an iota, gazing at his arm. She’d moved so fast Lee had barely registered it.

‘You’re hurt,’ she said, concerned. ‘Here, let me look –’

She unwrapped the crude bandage before Lee could make any protest and frowned at the wound.

‘A bite,’ she muttered. Pantalaimon pecked at her ear.

‘Yeah, a wolf tried to take a chunk out of me,’ Lee told her. ‘It wasn’t his fault, I startled him.’

Lyra didn’t answer. She placed a grubby palm atop the injury and closed her eyes. On her shoulder, Pantalaimon turned into a crow, and peered down at where her hand rested.

‘Kid, what are you –’ Lee began, and then forgot what he had been going to say. He forgot he knew any words at all.

Lyra’s hand was _glowing_. It shone with a light that evoked thoughts of autumn, of the gentle gilded light that slanted down on September evenings. It was warm, the heat building until it was at the very limit of what was bearable. The golden light swirled, curling around her hand and Lee’s arm, and then with a flare that had Lee blinking as if his torch had been shone right in his eyes, winked out.

‘There, that’s sorted,’ said Lyra. She took away her hand and Lee’s eyes – his brain was taking a while to catch up with events – saw that the bite-mark was healed. No blood, no angry red scratches, no swollen flesh and the pain had gone. Only a couple of faint scars, where the bite had been deepest, remained, and Lee had a weird feeling that even they would vanish soon.

‘I’ll be jiggered,’ said Hester, stunned, and the sound of her voice brought Lee back to himself.

‘How did you…’ he began, but Lyra shook her head.

‘I just can. It’s something I do,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your help, Mr Scoresby.’

With that, she turned and ran back into the forest, her daemon taking the form of a fox and sprinting after her.

‘No, wait!’ Lee cried, running after her. But within a few paces, Lyra and Pan had disappeared into the gloaming, camouflaged by the shifting shadows and dark trees. Lee scanned the wood, ears straining for sounds of her footsteps, but he could discern nothing.

Defeated, he slouched back to the horse, which seemed to Lee to regard him with a sympathetic eye.

‘What now?’ he asked Hester.

‘Let’s get this fella home and get some rest,’ she told him. ‘There’s nothing more we can do tonight. ‘Sides, I ain’t sure chasing after a baby witch is the best idea, even if she did do you a good turn.’

Lee saw the sense in this, even though something deep inside ached at leaving that girl all alone in the woods, irrespective of whether she was magic. He caught hold of the horse’s bridle and began leading him down the hill.

‘I don’t think she’s a witch, Hester,’ he said as they loped along. ‘We’ve met witches, and she’s nothing like them.’

‘Then what would you call her?’ Hester asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ answered Lee. ‘But not a witch.’

###

Lee left the horse tied up in a farmyard near a water trough, and made his way back to the barn where his balloon was stored just as the dark was diminishing into the grey light that heralded the approach of dawn. He hunkered down in the basket, and slept, a light and troubled sleep invaded by powerful dreams.

He dreamt he was back in the forest, and the wolves were howling, singing their sad lullabies to the moon. They sounded so sad and so beautiful that Lee’s heart clenched. And then he felt a hand in his, and he looked down and saw Lyra, the wild girl.

‘They want us to sing with them,’ she told him. And she tilted her head back and howled.

Lee woke then, stirred into consciousness by the sounds of the farmhands going about their business. Hester, curled up on his chest, nipped gently at his chin.

‘Rise and shine,’ she said to him. ‘Let’s get back to Oxford and get ourselves looking respectable.’

‘Respectable? Me?’ Lee yawned.

‘Fair point. At least, looking as though you didn’t spend the night traipsing through the woods and dodging hunters. If we must go looking for trouble, let’s not get caught doing it.’

Lee murmured assent, and after they’d escaped unnoticed from the barn they set off through a cool, damp morning back to Oxford.

Despite undergoing a busy night, being bitten by a wolf and running on a few hours of broken sleep and no breakfast, Lee didn’t feel rough. In fact, he felt quite energetic, sucking in great lungfuls of fresh country air and his legs tingling with the urge to walk swiftly, or even run back to town. Hester scampered alongside him, sharing in his bout of _joie de vivre_ , although she did glance at him askance when Lee began whistling an off-key tune for the hell of it.

After he’d found a decent boarding house, paid for a week’s board, cleaned himself up, eaten a late breakfast, and purchased a few handkerchiefs and a new shirt to replace the one he’d shredded, Lee was feeling remarkably cheerful as he and Hester wandered the streets of Oxford, searching for (preferably legal) work. He didn’t obtain any guaranteed jobs, but he gave his name and place of residence at a couple of courier services and the clerks were reassuring, saying there were bound to be urgent deliveries to be made within a couple of days. He nabbed a few delivery forms as he left, sure they would come in handy.

He was strolling past one of the ancient colleges, planning to while the afternoon away in one of the local drinking establishments, when Hester stopped as though struck, and sat with her nose quivering in surprise.

‘What?’ Lee exclaimed, hand groping for his carefully concealed revolver.

‘It’s Iorek,’ Hester exclaimed. ‘What the hell is he doing here?’

Lee followed her gaze down a narrow, crooked little alley, a relic of the city’s medieval past, to where Iorek Byrnison was hunkered beside some bags of rubbish and kitchen refuse. As Lee made his careful way up the tiny street, he realised Iorek was trying to peer into a cellar window, so caked with dirt it was probably letting in less light than the wall.

Iorek reared up with a disgusted grunt as they made their way towards him.

‘Afternoon, Iorek,’ Lee nodded. ‘Whatcha doing?’

‘Trying to gather information,’ the bear answered after only a moment’s hesitation.

‘About what?’ Lee queried.

‘I do not wish to say,’ Iorek said stiffly. Lee raised an eyebrow.

‘Okay, then I’ll guess,’ he drawled. ‘Something that’s in this college. And they won’t tell you what it is, or let you in to take a look, what with you being an armoured bear and all.’

‘Yes,’ Iorek snapped. Lee considered this for an instant.

‘Too bad someone can’t go in and take a look for you,’ he said pleasantly.

‘You’re crazy,’ Hester grumbled.

‘Are you offering to do so?’ Iorek asked at once.

‘Depends,’ Lee said, turning serious. ‘What would I be looking for?’

Iorek paused, but only for a moment.

‘An animal. A wolf, specifically. I believe some scholars are conducting experiments on one within the grounds of this college. Confirmation of its presence would be… useful.’

‘What’s an armoured bear want with a wolf?’ Hester asked bluntly. ‘This something to do with the Council and their wolf hunt?’

Even as she asked the question, Lee recalled the golden wolf, how it had been utterly unafraid of him, how drawn he had felt towards it.

‘It’s nothing to do with the wolf hunt,’ he said, and the conviction in his voice was such that Hester jumped and Iorek’s gaze turned from speculative to approving. ‘This is to do with the wolves themselves, cause there’s something special about them. Something you need, Iorek, and something the Council wants to destroy.’

The great bear made a huff that might have been a laugh.

‘I might have known you would puzzle out my intent sooner or later,’ Iorek said. ‘Yes, Lee, I am in Oxford because of the wolves who live in Badbury Forest. And I believe there is one being held in this college. But I would rather not explain my true purpose to you in public.’

‘Fair enough,’ Lee shrugged. ‘All right, Iorek, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll do a little investigating for you on the condition that you tell me what you’re doing here and what you want with these wolves.’

‘Accepted,’ Iorek said at once. ‘I will go and wait for you in my forge. Be careful when you investigate, Lee. The Council is merciless when it comes to these wolves. They will show you no mercy, either.’

‘You’re the second person to tell me that,’ Lee sighed. ‘Okay, come on Hester. We’ve got some preparations to make.’

###

Lee’s ‘preparations’ involved purchasing a box, brown paper and string, filling out one of the purloined courier forms with Hester’s guidance, stowing his hat and coat under a crate in the alley, and ‘borrowing’ an unremarkable black coat from a careless under-scholar who’d left it slung over a bench while he and his compatriots argued about the theories of Dr Something versus the theories of Professor Or Other. The under-scholar was expounding on the recent research on the nature of the human soul done by Dr Van Buskirk of Jordan College, the college Lee was about to go poking round, and he tucked the name away in his memory, ready for when he needed it.

Moments later he was walking into Jordan College at a brisk pace, most unlike his usual confident saunter, parcel in hand. Hester folded her ears along her back and did her best to look unassuming.

Luck was with them – there was one porter on duty, and he was white-haired, rather deaf and struggling to remain awake. His spaniel daemon was snoozing at his feet and didn’t wake even when Hester prodded at her with a rangy foreleg. The poor man readily accepted Lee’s story of a special delivery from Texas for Dr Van Buskirk, to be taken to his office per special instruction, and waved him through the college gates.

Lee and Hester hurried along at first, not wanting to dawdle and get accosted by some officious servant or well-meaning under-scholar. Once they’d travelled a safe distance into the grounds, Lee paused, assessing where to go next. The college was vast, and he realised there was nothing for it but to choose somewhere to spy on and hope for the best. It was Hester who took charge, loping over to a small archway tucked between two great oak doors.

‘Down here,’ she whispered, and Lee saw a twisting stone staircase presumably leading down to the cellars where whatever had intrigued Iorek was located.

They made their way down to the base of the stairs without running into anyone. The stairs ended in a passageway, constructed from cool slabs of stone and with anbaric lights strung at intervals, the wires dangling rather than hidden behind plaster. There were no windows, and Lee guessed they were below ground level. To their left and right, the corridor stretched away. Doors were set into the opposing wall at regular intervals.

‘Left, or right?’ Hester asked.

‘Right,’ Lee decided at random, and they started down the corridor.

It was a long corridor. Lee estimated it ran the full length of the building. He tried a couple of doors. One was locked, the other opened onto a storage room filled with unremarkable filing cabinets and a desk creaking beneath mounds of paperwork. He was just about to turn on his heel and go in the opposite direction when Hester’s ears twitched.

Lee heard it a moment later: raised voices, having what sounded like a well-mannered argument, or at least an unfriendly conversation. He slowed his pace to a crawl, hugging the wall, until he came to the door the voices were emanating from.

It was helpfully open – just. A sliver of light crept into the corridor, and Lee could hear what was being said, although not who was speaking. It was a man, and he was agitated.

‘What you’re asking me to do, is not only illegal, but unethical,’ the man was saying, words barbed with anger. ‘If the Magisterium were to become aware –’

‘The principle of scholastic sanctuary was established for just this kind of situation,’ a woman answered, her voice sweetness underlaid with steel. Lee realised with a gut-punch of surprise that it was Mrs Coulter from the Council.

‘That principle will be worthless if the Magisterium find out about what you’re proposing. We’ll both disappear some dark night and never be heard from again. Have you ever heard of Professors Lawrence and Hall? No? That’s because their names are never mentioned in scholastic circles. One found dead, the other missing, their essay banned, and all copies destroyed.’

‘Their work was heretical. It argued that same-sex love was not against the will of God,’ Mrs Coulter said smoothly. Lee could just picture the little smile on her face as she said it.

‘Yes, and in theory they should have been protected by scholastic sanctuary. Which is becoming just that – theoretical.’

‘Oh, come now, Dr Van Buskirk,’ Mrs Coulter purred. ‘Your work is already causing consternation among the more conservative elements in our church and parliament. Suggesting that the human soul is capable of transfiguration, that it does not mirror our Creator’s image… you’re not afraid of controversy.’

‘Maybe not,’ Dr Van Buskirk answered. ‘I seek what all scholars seek – knowledge, and truth. But what you’re – _demanding_ , that’s not truth. That’s corruption. I want no part of it.’

Silence. Some silences are absences, and others are presences. The quiet that followed Dr Van Buskirk’s declaration was the latter.

It seemed to linger for a very long time. It was Mrs Coulter who broke it. Her tone was all cream and roses, but the words made Lee wince.

‘Have it your way, Doctor. I won’t compel you to participate. I will, however, require copies of all your research to date, including the records you keep hidden in that secret compartment in your desk. Oh, and copies of the correspondence you’ve been sending to your sister in New Amsterdam. It won’t take long for our best men to divine your cipher. A shame about your sister, though. The authorities in that part of the world aren’t as… civilised.’

Dr Van Buskirk said something too faint for Lee to make out, but he could guess at its meaning.

‘Now, now, Doctor, cursing is the sign of an uneducated mind,’ Mrs Coulter said. ‘Assist me in this endeavour, and scholastic sanctuary will be extended to both yourself and your sister.’

‘What would you have me do?’ Dr Van Buskirk asked, sounding weary. ‘I am not an experimental theologian. My work is strictly theoretical.’

‘I have theologians to carry about the practical aspects of these… experiments,’ Mrs Coulter answered. ‘All I need is your research into these creatures. And for you to observe the wolf and its daemon. To establish if their relationship supports or contradicts your hypothesis. I’ll be leaving guards with you to monitor your progress and ensure there are no unlucky… escapes.’

A wolf with a daemon? Lee was shocked rigid by her words. Animals didn’t have daemons… not even the _panserbjørne_ had daemons. Their souls resided in their armour. What Mrs Coulter was implying wasn’t just radical, but heresy of the most blatant, threatening sort.

He was roused from his stunned state by a sharp nip to his ankle. He glanced down at Hester, who jerked her head towards the stairs. Lee nodded, and began to move away as silently as possible, no longer caring about appearing inconspicuous, only wanting to escape the danger lurking in that room.

They were a few steps away from safety when Lee heard a door creak open. He leapt for the stairs, and swung himself around the corner, heart thudding until it was almost painful. Hester had managed the jump with much more grace, and hunkered at his feet, trembling with adrenaline, as they waited to see if they were in the clear.

‘Did you hear something?’ they heard Mrs Coulter ask.

‘No, except those shoes you’re wearing,’ Dr Van Buskirk grumbled.

Lee snickered silently to himself, and he and Hester began to sidle upstairs, making their stealthy escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr Van Buskirk - Peter De Jersey 
> 
> The unfortunate Professors, Lawrence and Hall, are named after the authors D. H. Lawrence and Radclyffe Hall, who wrote 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' and 'The Well of Loneliness' respectively in the 1920s. These are two of the most famous works to be banned in the UK - the former for explicit depictions of sex, the latter for its portrayal of love between two women. Hall's book was reprinted several years after her death with no legal challenges. 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' was reprinted in 1960 and the publisher stood trial for obscenity. They won and the book was legally available afterwards (though the prosecution didn't help its case by demanding of the jury 'is it a book you would want your wife or servants to read?')
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	4. The Fugitive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee speaks with Iorek, and then quite literally runs into another acquaintance.

They made their way out of Jordan without incident. Lee dumped the under-scholar’s coat back on the bench he’d purloined it from, retrieved his own hat and coat, went on a longish walk round the colleges to make certain they weren’t being followed (Hester gave the all-clear after thirty minutes) and only then made his way back to Iorek’s forge.

He was relieved to see there was no policeman on guard duty outside the shed, and went straight to the door, knocking perfunctorily.

‘Enter,’ Iorek said. He nodded a greeting when he saw Lee. ‘Come in and close the door behind you. I gave the officer keeping watch on me money for drink. He won’t disturb us for some time.’

‘Good,’ Lee said, coming right in and closing the door as soon as Hester was inside. ‘Because I’ve got some information for you, Iorek, and a hell of a lot of questions.’

He told Iorek everything he’d heard in the underground corridor: Mrs Coulter’s presence, Dr Van Buskirk’s antipathy to whatever she was proposing, his secret research, the blackmail, and, most outrageously, the wolf with a daemon. Lee couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice, but he noted that Iorek didn’t seem at all discomposed by this revelation. It was possible the great bear simply didn’t understand the significance of such, but Lee doubted it. Iorek had spent too much time with Lee and Hester to disregard the sacred bond that existed between human and daemon.

Lee finished his narrative and lent against the fireplace, which felt as cold as snow. Iorek stood in silence for a long moment, digesting all he’d been told.

‘Lee, have you ever heard the legends of the berserkers?’ he asked without preamble.

Lee, who had, nodded.

‘They were fierce warriors, from the north,’ he said. ‘Said to be able to turn into wolves – they would don a wolfskin and turn into the animal. Some legends have their daemons turning into wolves too, no matter their original shape.’

‘Yes,’ Iorek confirmed. ‘Those legends have existed for thousands of years, and for the most part are considered just that, legendary. But the _panserbjørne_ know better. For years, the berserkers lived in the forests of the North, neither wholly human nor wholly wolf, but the best of both.’

‘I’ll be jiggered,’ Hester said once again. Lee was dumbfounded. He would have suspected Iorek of pulling his leg, except the bear had no sense of humour as far as Lee had been able to determine.

‘There were people who could… change into wolves?’ he asked, as the world around him twisted and reconfigured itself.

‘In a way,’ Iorek said. ‘Their spirits left their bodies as they slept and assumed the form of wolves. Their daemons could either remain with their human form or accompany them as they went forth as wolves. They were indeed fierce warriors, but their great purpose was to serve as a link, a bridge between the world of wolves and animals and the world of humans.’

‘You’ve met them?’ Lee queried.

‘I met one, many years ago,’ Iorek answered, and although it was difficult to tell, Lee thought he detected a note of sadness in the bear’s speech. ‘I believe he was one of the last of his kind. The berserkers were dying out, partly through losses in battle, partly because their numbers had always been small and few children born to them. But the true cause of their demise was persecution by the Magisterium.’

‘Doesn’t surprise me,’ Lee sighed.

‘The berserkers were wiped out, under pretext of hunting wolves,’ Iorek informed him. ‘A campaign funded by the Magisterium, over many decades. I searched for a berserker for months, before I travelled to Oxford. I came here because there were rumours of creatures in the nearby forest. Creatures called wolfwalkers.’

‘And these… wolfwalkers… are the same as your berserkers?’ Lee asked.

‘I am almost certain they are,’ Iorek confirmed. ‘The stories I have heard regarding them align perfectly with the legends of the berserkers. Humans who, when they sleep, leave their bodies in the shape of wolves and go forth with their daemons. And until their spirit returns, their human form will remain asleep, unless their wolf form is killed, in which case both perish.’

‘So, that wolf Mrs Coulter mentioned…?’ Lee murmured, half to himself and half to Iorek.

‘I believe she has captured and imprisoned a wolfwalker whilst it was in wolf form,’ Iorek confirmed. ‘For what purpose, I do not know.’

‘From what I’ve heard, I suspect she’s got Magisterium backing,’ Lee surmised. ‘What you’ve told, what these wolfwalkers can do… well, it goes against the Church’s teachings. That we were made in the Authority’s image and so forth. I’m not surprised the Magisterium wants to wipe them out. I’m more interested in knowing what _you_ want with them.’

‘That is fair,’ Iorek acknowledged. ‘I seek a wolfwalker because my clan is in desperate need of them, Lee Scoresby. For centuries, we have resided on Bolvangar. We are being forced out, but not by the Magisterium or hunters. The ice that sustains us is melting.’

‘Melting?’ Lee repeated, his inflection turning it into a question.

‘Yes. Slowly at first, but now unmistakeably. For the past five winters, the sea surrounding us has frozen later, and thawed earlier,’ Iorek said, voice even graver than usual. ‘And less ice is freezing, we have measured it. Our domain is shrinking. It is becoming harder to hunt, and our resources are dwindling. Conflict is beginning to emerge – some bears believe we should abandon our ancestral home, other factions want us to seek a solution through experimental theology and ally with a human state, though none can agree which one.’

‘What about the witches?’ Lee suggested, remembering his own recent encounter with a witch-queen and her clan.

‘Not likely,’ Hester spoke up before Iorek could. ‘Witches live in the air, Lee, not on the ice. They wouldn’t know what’s affecting it.’

‘Nor do they,’ Iorek confirmed. ‘I consulted several witches before I made my journey to Oxford, but none could tell me why the ice was melting. Only that it is not the work of witches. Hence my journey to find a wolfwalker, a being who connects the natural world with the human. A being who might be able to divine the reason and explain it to us bears.’

‘A long shot,’ Lee murmured.

‘It is,’ Iorek agreed. ‘But I saw no other potential solution. I decided to take a gamble, as you would say, Lee. The damned curfew upon the town has thwarted my efforts, however. I was threatened with imprisonment should I breach it, which would be of no good to anyone.’

For a while they stood in silence, Iorek waiting, Lee musing on all he’d learned over the past few days.

‘Tell us more about these wolfwalkers, Iorek,’ Hester said, apropos of nothing. ‘Their spirit leaves their body when they sleep as a wolf?’

‘Yes, and any wounds upon the wolf form are suffered by the sleeping human form,’ Iorek answered. ‘But they have tremendous power that reduces their danger. They retain their human minds in wolf form. And they have power over true wolves – they can speak with them, encourage them to do their bidding.’

‘Handy,’ Lee muttered.

‘And they are stronger and faster than ordinary men, with sharper senses,’ Iorek continued. ‘Their daemons tend to share in this ability. I also believe that they possess the ability to heal wounds and cure illnesses.’

Hester sat bolt upright. Lee started at those words, and the golden light conjured by the wild girl – was it only last night? – seemed to swirl before his eyes.

‘Lee?’ asked Iorek, conscious that Lee had realised something.

‘You say they can heal injuries?’ Lee asked, though it was a rhetorical question. ‘Well, I think I’ve met one of your wolfwalkers, Iorek.’

He pulled back his left coat and shirt sleeves to reveal the fading scar from the wolf bite. Iorek examined it with interest.

‘Last night, I broke the curfew,’ Lee explained. ‘And went into Badbury Forest, to see what all the fuss was about.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ Iorek remarked dryly.

Lee rolled his eyes and continued with his story. Seeing the golden-furred wolf, getting bitten, finding the wild girl in the wolf trap, their escape and Lyra’s healing of his wound.

Although Iorek was seldom demonstrative, Lee could sense the bear’s excitement rising as he explained what had occurred. He concluded with Lyra’s escape into the woods, and the bear harrumphed his approval.

‘A wolfwalker, for certain,’ he proclaimed. ‘The wolf you met in the forest was very possibly Lyra in wolf form, Lee.’

‘Hellfire,’ Lee muttered, flabbergasted.

‘It would explain why the wolf acted so strange,’ Hester murmured. ‘I was wondering why she came right up to you, Lee. I’m still wondering. Why would a wolf approach a strange man? You could’ve been a hunter for all she knew.’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Lee admitted.

‘Nor I,’ remarked Iorek. ‘But if this… Lyra, is willing to trust you Lee, then perhaps she will be willing to speak with me, also.’

‘Maybe,’ Lee conceded. ‘But she’s just a kid, Iorek. She mentioned her father – he’s probably one of these wolfwalkers. He might be the best one to speak to. Assuming he’s come back, that is.’

As he finished speaking, Lee recalled the wolf and daemon trapped by Mrs Coulter and a horrible possibility reared up in his mind. His eyes met Hester’s golden orbs, and he knew the same thing had occurred to her.

‘Hell, Iorek,’ Lee said wrathfully. ‘I think this wolf, or wolfwalker, that Mrs Coulter mentioned, might be Lyra’s father. Lyra told us he was late coming back from a hunt, and now this woman has a wolf and its daemon locked up somewhere – it doesn’t feel like a coincidence to me.’

‘Perhaps it isn’t,’ Iorek said. ‘It depends on how many wolfwalkers live in the forest. It may be a different wolfwalker. But there aren’t many of them – or at least, there were never many berserkers.’

‘Damn,’ Lee muttered, thinking of Lyra, alone and forced to fend for herself in the forest. She might or might not be able to turn into a wolf, but a young girl like that would come to grief sooner or later. ‘Perhaps we should go and try to find her.’

‘You might be able to,’ Iorek said. ‘I would draw too much attention, were I to search the woods, and I doubt she would approach me. I suspect I would be… intimidating.’

‘No kidding,’ remarked Hester. ‘Look, even if we find this girl again, what makes you think she’s going to be willing to leave her home and travel to the North in hopes of solving some mystery for the armoured bears?’

‘Or if we’re even going to be able to gain her trust,’ Lee sighed. ‘If it _is_ her father that Coulter and the scholar were arguing about, she’s got every reason to suspect humans. She’s in a lot of danger.’

Iorek made no response, and for a few minutes they stood in silence, contemplating the dire situation. It was, as usual, Lee who spoke first.

‘Iorek, I’ll help you as much as I can,’ he said. ‘I’ll try and find this girl again and see if she’s willing to speak to you. But no promises. If she’s too angry or scared to help, I ain’t minded to persuade her.’

‘Very well,’ Iorek rumbled. ‘I thank you for your help, Lee, Hester. I have learned more this one afternoon than in the whole month I have resided here.’

‘I have my uses,’ Lee affirmed.

‘Precious few,’ Hester grumbled. ‘But you have them.’

###

Lee and Hester left Iorek’s forge soon after, sneaking out through the back door to avoid attracting undue attention. Lee’s thoughts were in a whirl, and so he and Hester took a stroll along the river Isis, watching the swans gliding past and the under-scholars idling the early spring afternoon away upon the riverbank, laughing and chatting.

Dusk came early, and they returned to their boarding house. Though Lee was tempted to sneak out to Badbury Forest and look for Lyra again, Hester cautioned against it, and for once Lee listened. The hunters hired by the Council would be on high alert after their escapade the previous night and heading straight back into the woods would be rank stupidity. They would just have to hope Lyra and her daemon managed to keep out of trouble.

Despite his troubled thoughts and anxiety for the wild girl, Lee ate a hearty dinner at his lodgings. He joined a few patrons at the bar afterwards, and immediately established himself as a man of substance by downing his shot of whisky in one go. He stayed for a while listening to the local gossip – which was nearly all about the wolves of Badbury Forest.

The stories ranged from the level-headed to the outlandish. About how the wolves could evade any hunter, how they never killed cattle or sheep, that they were ghosts who hunted down and killed evildoers. That they could assume human form at will, going in the guise of a handsome man or beautiful woman, to seduce people before ripping out their throats. About how they had stolen a human child and raised her as a wolf (Lee had a coughing fit when he heard that). That to kill them would bring a curse down on the city.

‘What do you make of it, Hester?’ Lee asked a short while later, after they’d retired to his room.

‘Load of balderdash, mostly,’ she’d answered. ‘The stuff about the wolf child, though… makes me think of Lyra. And it’s clear the locals aren’t in favour of this hunt. For the wrong reasons, true, but it might explain why the Council is paying such a high price for hunters. Trouble acquiring them.’

‘Let’s hope it stays that way,’ Lee muttered, stomach clenching at the thought of an innocent girl becoming prey to ruthless, bloodthirsty men.

Despite Lee’s worry, when he stretched out on his bed, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

His dreams were as strange and intense as the previous night’s. Lee dreamt he was in the far north, standing on a vast ice floe, while above him the northern lights seemed to dance and flow like a fox running and leaping, the glow like sparks of light glimmering in its fur.

‘You’re starting to see,’ said Iorek, who was standing next to Lee.

Lee turned to face the bear, and found he was back in the forest. Wolves were surrounding him, watching him, their long faces sombre but their numinous eyes inquisitive, even welcoming. One broke away from the circle, and Lee realised it was the golden wolf who had bitten him.

‘Lyra?’ he asked.

The golden wolf walked up to him, fearless, and seized the hem of his coat in its mouth. It tugged him gently to a pool that rested, still and polished as a mirror, under the trees.

Lee looked into the water.

A wolf, black-furred and dark eyed, looked back.

He woke then, just as a greyish light was struggling to enter the room through a gap in the curtains. Hester was curled up on his chest as usual, and she rubbed herself against his face.

‘You’re shivering,’ she observed. ‘Bad dream?’

‘No, just a strange one,’ Lee murmured, the image of the wolf in the pool lingering in his waking mind. ‘The northern lights, and wolves. Lots of wolves.’

‘Hardly surprising, given everything that’s been going on.’

‘True,’ Lee agreed, some of the eeriness fading from the recollection at these sensible words. He rose and peered out of the window. Oxford was still slumbering for the most part, but a lit window dotted here and there, smoke from chimneys and the odd worker scurrying past, ready for the early shift, showed the city was waking.

‘What’s today, Hester?’ he asked, glancing over at where she was perched at the foot of the bed. ‘Looking for Iorek’s wolfwalkers? Doing something respectable for a change?’

‘The latter,’ Hester said at once. ‘Oh, I know you want to go looking for Lyra. I wouldn’t mind finding her myself. Someone needs to check on her at least. But let’s leave it a day or two. Let things settle down.’

Lee turned back to the window.

‘I don’t like it,’ he muttered. ‘The girl could be in trouble. Her father’s almost certainly in trouble. With the Council hunting them – and the Magisterium involved…’

‘Yeah, but we’re not going to be any use if we get ourselves locked up or shot,’ Hester said bluntly. ‘You know I’m not shy of a fair fight, Lee, but this ain’t a fair fight. Not by miles. We’re going to have to come at it stealthy.’

The thought of standing by and leaving Lyra to – well, not the wolves, but something worse than wolves – was bitter as vinegar to Lee, but he acknowledged the sense in Hester’s counsel. With a sigh, he turned to wash and get ready for another long day.

‘Come on then,’ he said to her. ‘Let’s stop by the courier firms again, see if any of them need our assistance.’

###

Lee certainly planned to stop by the courier services, or else traipse down to the wharves and see if any of the tradesman had any casual work that needed doing. However, fate had an entirely different plan for his morning.

He’d just finished breakfast, which took a while as insides seemed to have hollowed themselves out as he slept. Hester, who had known Lee to subsist perfectly well on salted fish and coffee for days on end, had watched with a concerned eye as Lee started on his fourth helping of bacon.

‘Sure you’re not sickening for something?’ she asked as Lee ate. ‘You’ve been eating like a horse these past couple of days.’

‘I’d be off my feed if I was ill,’ Lee said, unbothered. ‘I feel fine, Hester.’

Hester sighed, but Lee was looking perfectly well, so let the matter drop. Soon enough, they were strolling down the street towards the river, ready to go and find work. Lee had suggested they take the scenic route through the colleges, just in case they saw or overheard something about the wolf in Jordan College or the wolf hunt, and Hester had agreed.

Lee walked along swiftly, his legs full of spring. He wished he could run to the riverside, to burn off some of the energy roiling in his limbs that morning but running undoubtedly would attract the wrong kind of attention.

Someone else had no such compunctions, as she had already attracted the wrong kind of attention.

Lee became aware of shouts of outrage and the sound of someone – several someones – running as he neared Jordan College.

‘Sounds like some action’s occurring,’ he said to Hester. Her long ears twitched in surprise.

‘It’s a couple of streets away,’ she informed him. ‘I’m impressed you hear it.’

‘How could I not, they’re yelling fit to wake – hey!’

Lee cried out because he’d just been rammed in the midsection by a girl sprinting heedlessly around a corner, her cheetah-daemon at her side. She might have been hurtling along like a cannonball, but she was much smaller than Lee and when they collided, it was her that went flying.

‘Hell!’ Lee exclaimed, stepping over to where the girl was lying on the pavement, stunned, her daemon staggering about trying to regain its balance after being checked mid-stride. ‘Are you all right, miss? Anything – Lyra? Lyra!’

Lyra – for it was her – had the hood of her coat pulled down low over her brow, another reason she hadn’t spied Lee in time to dodge. But as he stooped over her, Lee saw a familiar stubborn chin, and those unmistakeable dark suspicious eyes. Those same eyes now widened with recognition.

‘Mr Scoresby!’ she gasped.

‘You hurt?’ Lee asked, and when she managed to shake her head, extended a hand. She took it, and he hauled her to her feet as gently as he could. He was worried for a moment, but once she was up, she stood firmly and wasn’t weeping or flinching from pain, her expression stoic. Her hood fell back from her head, and her hair stuck out in a wild tangle, her clothes smudged with dirt. Looking at her, Lee could easily believe she was part wolf.

‘What’s going on, kid?’ Lee asked her.

‘No time!’ chittered Pantalaimon, who had turned into a magpie and was hopping about as if the cobbles were blazing hot. ‘Lyra, run!’

Lee heard them coming. Security forces sounded the same the world over: heavy boots, shouting, whistles. He reacted almost without thinking.

He whipped his hat off and plonked it on Lyra’s head.

‘Stuff your hair into that!’ he hissed at her. ‘You, Pan – turn yourself into something dull!’

Lee never raised his voice, but his tone did not admit the possibility of disobedience. Lyra did as she was told, while Pan stopped leaping about, turned into a nondescript brown dog and stood obediently at her feet.

‘Your scarf, Lee!’ Hester said in a loud whisper. Lee whipped it off and wrapped it round Lyra’s neck in an instant, tugging it up to cover her chin. He put his arm round her shoulders and began to walk along, nonchalance radiating from him.

‘Walk slowly, don’t run,’ he whispered. Lyra nodded.

They hadn’t taken more than four steps when the security men were upon them. They wore the black, unmarked uniforms of the Magisterium rather than the insignia of college or private security, an unpleasant surprise. Lee never altered his pace, strolling calmly as they thundered past. He felt Lyra tense under his arm and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

The men thundered past, intent on a fleeing girl, not a man and what they thought was a boy walking quietly. Only one of them, a thuggish-looking man with a brown-and-white pointer daemon, paused to speak to them.

‘Excuse me, sir,’ he panted to Lee. ‘You seen a girl run past? Skinny scrap, dark hair?’

‘A few moments ago,’ lied Lee. ‘Tearing along as if the devil were after her. Ran to the end of the street and turned right.’

‘Thank you,’ the man gasped, and pounded off, the pointer-daemon pausing to glare at Lee suspiciously but then jogging off with her human.

Lee and Lyra continued walking along until the man was safely round the corner. Lee waited a few moments to make sure they didn’t double back, and then halted, letting go of Lyra.

‘Come on,’ he said to her. ‘We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. If that guard doesn’t work out something’s amiss, his daemon might.’

‘Where do we go, though?’ Pantalaimon asked.

‘Iorek’s forge?’ Hester suggested, but Lee shook his head.

‘Too conspicuous. The police are watching,’ he answered. ‘Let’s head for the river as planned. We can lose ourselves pretty well down there.’

He glanced down at Lyra.

‘You figure on coming with us or making a break for it?’ he asked bluntly. ‘‘Cause if it’s the latter, I’m mighty attached to that hat. I’d like to have it back.’

Lyra, despite the seriousness of the situation, grinned at him.

‘We’re coming with you,’ she said. ‘That’s twice now you’ve helped me. I can’t steal your hat.’

‘I should think not,’ said Hester, as they turned in the opposite direction to the one taken by the Magisterium security forces and began their long walk to safer environs.

###

They strolled along, forcing themselves not to rush. Lee kept one eye out for the Magisterium security forces and one on Lyra, in case she panicked or froze. But she was remarkably cool for a girl with a missing father and with the forces of the law out to nab her. She walked alongside Lee occasionally offering an idle comment on the weather or an aside about the environs they found themselves in. Pantalaimon stayed in dog form, trotting along steadily.

They made it to the wharves without incident and slid into the crowd like a knife into warm butter. Lee felt immeasurably better, concealed as they were among dockers and bargemen and gyptians and tradesmen and messenger-boys and factory workers and beggars and thieves.

‘We need to talk,’ he said to Lyra as they manoeuvred around a cart piled high with timber. ‘Let’s find somewhere quiet.’

‘Follow me,’ Lyra said at once. ‘I know somewhere.’

She veered right and ducked down an alleyway that was little more than a muddy patch of overlooked ground between two warehouses. Lee and Hester followed her into the tangle of forgotten lanes and overgrown little courtyards that form an indispensable part of any industrial area, until Lyra paused beside a wooden door so weathered it was impossible to tell what colour it had originally been painted. It boasted an impressive iron lock, only slightly rusted. However, when Lyra tried the door it opened at once.

‘It’s always open,’ she informed Lee. ‘No-one bothers about it cause there’s nothing in here to steal and the night-watchman’s got a rottweiler-daemon, so he scares them off. He’s a great soft pudding really, but no-one realises it.’

Lee stepped inside and found himself in a cavernous room empty of everything except dust and pigeon droppings. The smell was cloying, and he covered his nose. Lyra was doing the same with his scarf.

‘We’ll get used to it in a few minutes,’ she said, sounding apologetic. ‘Here’s your hat back.’

She pulled it off her head and held it out to Lee, but he didn’t take it.

‘First things first, Lyra,’ he said, dropping his hand and looking her in the eye. ‘Why were those men after you?’

She hesitated. Lee could almost see the mental gymnastics she was doing. She was secretive, either nature or upbringing had made her that way, but she felt she owed Lee for his help.

‘I tried to break in somewhere,’ she said at last. ‘At Jordan College. They spotted me and was chasing me.’

Lee nodded. The words had a ring of truth to them.

‘Why’d you try and break in?’ he asked.

Another pause, longer this time. Lyra stared at him – an assessing stare, not a blank one. Pantalaimon turned into an eagle owl and stared at him from a window ledge. Lee wondered how he was measuring up.

‘I was looking for my father,’ Lyra said at long last. Lee nodded. This was lining up with what he’d learned over the past couple of days.

‘Was he visiting there?’ he enquired, hoping to coax a little more out of her.

‘Not exactly,’ Lyra mumbled, twisting his hat in her hands. Lee waited, but she didn’t say anything else. Lee sighed. Time to try another tactic.

‘Lyra,’ he began. ‘I’m in Oxford for a reason. I got word a friend of mine travelled here. He’s called Iorek Byrnison, and he’s one of the _panserbjørne_.’

Lyra’s eyes glowed with awe.

‘An armoured bear?’ she breathed. ‘From the North?’

‘Yeah, we go back quite a way. I was surprised to hear he was in Oxford, of all places, so I travelled here to check on him. He’s here for a reason. He’s seeking out something called a wolfwalker.’

Pantalaimon fell off the windowsill.

The look of shock of Lyra’s face might have been funny under different circumstances. Her eyes opened so wide that for a crazy moment Lee thought they might roll out of her head. Her jaw dropped and she stopped breathing for a moment. His poor hat was having the life squeezed out of it.

Then the expression vanished from her face as if it had been wiped off, and she smirked.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she began.

‘Sure you do,’ Lee said easily. ‘Unless I’ve gone stark staring mad –’

‘A distinct possibility,’ Hester murmured.

‘Then you healed my arm last night, and I’ve been told that’s something wolfwalkers can do,’ Lee continued. ‘Heal wounds through magic. Care to explain?’

Lyra’s eyes flicked to the door, but Lee was standing between her and the exit. There were probably more escape routes throughout the warehouse, but Lee didn’t intend to let Lyra run away this time.

‘Easy now,’ he said, holding up a hand. ‘Lyra, I’m not going to hurt you. And I’m sure as hell not going to give you up to the Magisterium. Them and me have had a few disagreements over the years, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But it looks to me like you’re in trouble, and if your pa is missing – which is how it seems – you’re gonna need some help.’

Pantalaimon, who had landed in a heap of feathers on the grimy floor, turned into a stoat, and ran to Lyra, running up her leg and onto her shoulder, where he surveyed Lee through bright black eyes. Lyra reached up to stroke his head, regarding Lee thoughtfully.

‘How did you learn about wolfwalkers?’ she asked him, her voice uncharacteristically subdued.

‘Iorek told me about them,’ Lee answered. ‘He’s come to Oxford specially to find one. He told me about how they turn into wolves when they sleep, how they have power over wild wolves – and about how they can heal wounds.’ He flexed his left hand in remembrance. ‘When I remembered what you did to my arm… well, it all kind of made sense.’

Lyra nodded.

‘What does your friend want with a wolfwalker?’ she asked.

‘He needs help,’ Lee answered. ‘He’s got a problem at Bolvangar, where he and his clan live. The ice they need to survive is melting – it’s getting worse year after year. He told a wolfwalker can – can move between worlds. The animal world and the human. He thinks a wolfwalker might be able to tell him what’s occurring and how to stop it.’

Lyra nodded again. And then she turned her back on him and retreated a few paces. Lee folded his arms and watched her.

‘What should we do, Pan?’ whispered Lyra.

‘He’s saved us. Twice now. And he’s right – we do need help. But do you think we can trust him?’

‘I think we can, yeah. I got a feeling about him.’

‘Your father said we were never to tell anyone.’

‘But he’s not here. He must be in trouble, and we’ve got to help him if he is.’

‘Perhaps if we agree to help the armoured bear, Mr Scoresby will help _us_.’

Lee quite literally bit his tongue to keep from blurting out that he’d help Lyra, no obligation or repayment necessary. He wasn’t sure where the impulse came from, only that it gripped him like an eagle’s talon, he felt it so strongly.

Lyra and Pan did a little more whispering. Then she turned back around and strode over to him, proffering his much-abused hat. This time, Lee accepted it.

‘Mr Scoresby,’ Lyra said, face grave and composed. ‘Will you come with me, back to Badbury Forest? I got some things to show you, and lots to talk about, and it’ll be easier out there. But if I take you, you’ve got to promise me you’ll never tell anyone else about what I show you. _No-one_. Unless I tell you it’s all right. This is a matter of life and death.’

Lee repressed the urge to chuckle at her seriousness and placed his hat back on his head.

‘You’ve got my word,’ he said, and then shivered as if a cool breeze had just blown through the warehouse. And although he couldn’t have explained how he knew it, he realised he’d just made a vow he’d die before breaking. Hester pressed herself against his leg, conscious something momentous had just happened.

‘All right,’ said Lyra. ‘Come on, Mr Scoresby. We’ve got a long walk ahead.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens... suffice it to say that as usual, Lee and Hester will soon be in a world of trouble.
> 
> The berserkers existed in our world, and the name comes from the Old Norse word 'berserkr' (plural berserkir). Although the exact meaning is up for debate, most modern academics think it means 'bear-shirt,' and was used to denote someone who went into battle wearing the skin of a bear. Berserkers were legendary warriors who fell into a trance-like rage when they fought (hence our modern word 'berserk'). In Lyra's world of course, they're shape-shifters. 
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	5. The Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyra takes Lee back to Badbury Forest, and introduces him to her friends.

It actually wasn’t that far to Badbury Forest, but Lee visited his boarding house to collect his belongings and then he had to stop and buy lunch before they were halfway there. His stomach was griping. Lyra too displayed a ravenous appetite, and the supplies they purchased at an inn and that Lee had intended to last a couple of days were two-thirds eaten by the time they reached the forest edge.

‘Don’t know what’s up with me,’ Lee remarked as he slung an apple core over a hedgerow. ‘I’m not normally this peckish.’

‘I always eat a lot,’ Lyra said through a mouthful of bread and ham. ‘So does my father. We need the energy, he says.’

‘Smart guy,’ Lee murmured, and they walked on.

Hester was worried about pursuit, and Pantalaimon turned into a hawk and drifted above them as they journeyed, keeping an eye on the road behind them, but they reached the forest without incident. Lyra led the way after that, leading Lee through the trees, not following any particular path, making her way deeper into the woodland through memory or instinct or some knowledge unknown to Lee.

After a good half-hour, they came to an escarpment of rocks, rising high in the midst of the trees, the golden stone almost luminous where the afternoon sun touched it, the moss and leaves covering large segments of it a pale, young green.

Lyra went directly to a rock at the base of the cliff, one entirely covered by ivy, and to Lee’s surprise, pulled it aside. It proved to be a natural green curtain and lifted to reveal a decent sized hole. No, not a hole – a tunnel, Lee realised as he peered into it.

‘In winter we hide it with branches,’ Lyra explained matter-of-factly. ‘Now we use ivy, to blend in. Come on, in here. Cover it back up with the ivy when you’re properly inside.’

She dropped to all fours and vanished into the tunnel, and there was nothing for it but to follow.

Lee had to drop to his knees and crawl into the mouth of the tunnel, covering the entrance back up as instructed. Hester loped on ahead as Lee crawled after her, cursing as he banged his shoulder on the rock.

‘It gets taller a few metres ahead,’ Hester informed him as she turned and came back to check on him. Lee persevered and found the roof of the tunnel rising as promised. A little further and there was room enough for him to stand. He shuffled cautiously towards the light shimmering at the end of the passageway.

‘Come on!’ came Lyra’s voice. ‘They all want to meet you!’

Lee sped up a little. He came to the tunnel’s end and stepped out into the light. He blinked to clear his vision and saw –

‘Holy hell,’ Lee breathed. Hester, standing beside him, was struck dumb, an occurrence Lee would have thoroughly enjoyed had he not been stupid with shock.

They were standing in a great circle, a hollow in the ridge they had seen the exterior of. Above them the cliffs rose, higher than three men standing on each other’s shoulders. Set into the cliffs were what looked like the mouths of caves, a couple with curtains strung across them. Although there was no roof – the hollow was open to the sky – the trees growing around the rim leaned over the edge and their branches tangled and grew so closely together that almost no blue could be glimpsed between the leaves, and the light that straggled through was dim and cool.

And there were wolves. Many wolves. A quick count supplied the number _eight_ , some full-grown and formidable, some younger and sapling slim.

Lee’s hand went automatically to his revolver, but he stopped himself from drawing and aiming. The wolves were weaving in and out of each other as they gazed at him, eyes luminous in the half-light, their motions easy, graceful. But none were lunging, crouching or even snarling. They were cautious, true, but more…curious.

In the midst of them were Lyra and Pan. Lyra was smiling, stroking their grey and black and oxblood heads, while Pan had turned into a wolf as well and was mingling with the pack.

‘It’s all right!’ she said, turning back to Lee. ‘These are my friends, the ones I mentioned. Everyone, this is Mr Scoresby and Hester. They’ve saved me twice now. Mr Scoresby, this is… everyone.’

‘Uh, hello, everyone,’ said Lee, his hand falling away from his gun. Hester rolled her eyes but muttered ‘afternoon, all.’

Two wolves broke away from the pack and walked up to him. One was grey all over with a scar on its muzzle, the other was grey and brown and had an unusually thin tail, more like a dog’s than a wolf’s.

‘Hold out your hand,’ Lyra instructed him. ‘Let them get to know you.’

Lee did as he was bid, mostly because he couldn’t think of an alternative. The wolves sniffed at his palm, and then each licked his hand with a rough tongue. Lyra smiled at them all.

‘That’s Nose-scar and Rattail,’ she informed him. ‘They’re the leaders, the breeding pair. They like you.’

‘Good,’ Lee muttered, withdrawing his hand. ‘I’m guessing I wouldn’t last long if they didn’t.’

‘You think?’ asked Hester in her most withering tones. ‘Hey you!’ she added, as Rattail sniffed at her. ‘Keep your nose to yourself.’

Rattail wagged her tail at the daemon. Hester tutted. Lee grinned.

‘Guess you have an admirer, Hester,’ he teased.

‘So long as I stay off the menu,’ she grumbled.

‘They won’t hurt you,’ Lyra reassured her. ‘They can tell you’re a daemon and not an ordinary hare.’ She glanced up at Lee. ‘And I’ve told them you’re our friend. The bear was right. I can talk to them – sort of.’

The other wolves began walking up to Lee and Hester, greeting them one by one. He obligingly held out his hands to them, though he refrained from touching them, not sure if they’d like it. Lyra watched approvingly.

‘Don’t touch them on the head,’ she said suddenly. ‘They don’t like it, it’s a dominant gesture. Rub them on the belly instead.’

‘I’ll think I’ll save that for when we’re better acquainted,’ Lee answered, smiling. His surprise and apprehension were fading, to be replaced by a wild excitement. ‘Kid, this is…astonishing. I’ve seen armoured bears, met witches, seen shamans do magic, flown to every corner of the north, but I’ve never seen something as extraordinary as you and these wolves.’

Lyra beamed at this praise. The wolves all began wagging their tails. One smallish, grey specimen began yipping and leaping around, before Lyra hushed him.

‘We got to be _quiet_!’ she hissed at him, and the poor fellow stopped his antics and flattened himself to the ground. Lee chuckled, but Lyra was unamused.

‘We’ve _got_ to be secret,’ she informed. ‘That’s why they don’t howl, they haven’t for ages in case the hunters hear them. They hate it, poor dears, but it’s for their own good. You too, Mr Scoresby – no noise, and you mustn’t tell anyone.’

‘I’ve given you my word on that, Lyra, and I meant it,’ Lee answered, suddenly serious. ‘Now, we’ve done the introduction, so how about these explanations you mentioned? Because I’m telling you, _curious_ is too weak a word for how I’m feeling after seeing all this.’

Lyra nodded, and strode over to where a slab of rock formed a natural bench.

‘Come and sit,’ she said. ‘This will take a while.’

###

Lyra told Lee all she knew, and he guessed the rest. The story was a long and complex one, but Lyra was a good storyteller, and she laid it out as clearly as possible.

Until Lyra was eleven, she had believed herself to be an orphan. She had lived at Jordan College for as long as she could remember, not belonging to anyone in particular, but watched over by all. Mrs Lonsdale the housekeeper clothed and fed her, the scholars taught her in higgledy-piggledy fashion, the Master kept her out of trouble (that he knew about at least) and Lyra played with the younger servants and the servants’ children, especially Roger, the kitchen boy who was her particular friend and confederate. Her parents had died in an airship accident when she was a baby, and somehow, she had ended up at Jordan.

Several times a year, at irregular intervals, her uncle would visit her. Lord Asriel was a proud, fierce, temperamental man and although Lyra regarded him with awe and admiration, _love_ was not a word easily associated with Asriel. He was a scholar, but more: he was a great explorer, an adventurer, and tales of his exploits and his daring were whispered through the corridors and laboratories and Retiring Room of Jordan in tones of fear, anger and respect.

So, life went on, and if Lyra wasn’t happy, she didn’t know it. Until she was eleven and began having peculiar dreams.

Lyra had always been what indulgent folk termed ‘wildly imaginative’ and less tolerant people called a ‘lying little wretch,’ but these dreams were unnaturally vivid, and all of them featured wolves. Dreams of running with wolves, of playing with them, of leaping over the rooftops and down the streets and through the gardens of Oxford with wolves.

About the same time, rumours began to circulate in Oxford that wolves had left Badbury Forest and were on the prowl in the city. Most dismissed this as pure fancy – the wolves had never breached the city limits. Why would they, when there was food enough in the woods? But the rumours came to Asriel’s ear somehow.

Without warning, he came to Jordan and took Lyra away. She’d thought they were going on one of his famed expeditions, but instead, he brought her here, to Badbury Forest, and the wolves’ den.

It was then Lyra learned things that turned her world on its head and spun it like a top for good measure. Lord Asriel was a wolfwalker, a man who turned into a wolf as he slept. Whenever he wasn’t journeying to the North, or to Byzantium or to a multitude of other places, he was living in Badbury Forest, so as to keep watch over Lyra. And he did this because he was her father, not her uncle.

Over a decade ago, Asriel had fallen in love with a woman. It had been love and lust at first glance for both of them: a wild, all-consuming destructive passion. The problem was the woman (Asriel had never told Lyra her name) was already married. So, they conducted an affair and inevitably, Lyra was the result.

It was then that Asriel made a fatal mistake. Until then, he had concealed his true nature from the woman. Habitual secrecy and, truthfully, a grain of misgiving about the woman’s limitless ambition had sealed his lips. But now, with a child to consider (and there was no doubt that she was Asriel’s), a child who might be a wolfwalker, he felt Lyra’s mother ought to know the truth.

It was a disastrous miscalculation. Although Lyra didn’t know the particulars of what transpired, she knew that her mother had tried to subjugate Lord Asriel and his powers and use them for her own ends. And that she’d had terrible plans for baby Lyra, plans involving experimentation, training and worse.

Asriel escaped. He kidnapped baby Lyra from her mother and engineered it to look as if she’d died (faking their passage on a recently capsized ship, adding her name to the list of the deceased). He took her to Jordan, invoking the principle of scholastic sanctuary. And there she’d remained…

‘Let me guess,’ Lee interrupted at this point. ‘You turned out to be a wolfwalker.’

‘I did,’ Lyra nodded. ‘My father knew, as soon as I started having the dreams. The first few really were dreams, but later… He’d thought I was human, you see. That was why he left me at Jordan. But he said it would be too dangerous for me to stay there as a wolfwalker.’

She lapsed into silence, scratching at the dirt with her toe. Pantalaimon turned into a rabbit and snuggled against her.

‘So, after your father fetched you away?’ Lee prompted. 

‘I been living here ever since,’ Lyra mumbled. ‘My father taught me about being a wolfwalker. What we can do, how to use our magic. He ent a woodsman, I lied about that cause I didn’t know you.’

Lee paused, watching her lowered eyes, her slumped shoulders.

‘Have you been back to Oxford since?’ he asked. ‘Seen your friends?’

‘No,’ Lyra sighed. ‘I stayed away, until a few days ago. Father says it would be too dangerous. He’s says we’ve got to stay hidden.’

‘Sounds lonely,’ Lee observed mildly. He was a loner by nature – hence Hester settling as a hare – but he knew it wasn’t a life that suited everyone. Especially not a young girl who’d been surrounded by friends and teachers since she could toddle.

‘It’s not so bad,’ Lyra answered defensively, looking up at Lee. ‘I’ve got Pan – and the wolves. They play with me and keep me company.’

‘And your father?’ Lee queried. ‘Did – does he play with you?’

‘Mostly he gives me lessons,’ Lyra said, pulling a face to indicate what she thought of _that_ pastime. ‘And he takes me hunting, when we’re wolves.’

‘Hmm,’ said Lee, exchanging glances with Hester. ‘And where is he now?’

Lyra gave him a sidelong glance. And then she rose and made her way over to one of the recesses in the cliff face – a small cave, really, shielded by a woven brown curtain. Lee rose and followed her.

Lyra drew aside the curtain, and they both peered in. The cave looked remarkably like the study of a respectable scholar. Books were ranged along tree roots and natural rocky shelves. A desk, covered in papers and scientific instruments – a lantern projector, a microscope, a sextant – and more diagrams and maps stuck up on the rough walls.

But Lee’s attention was drawn to the rough pallet, arranged against the back wall of the cave. A man was lying on it, apparently asleep, but his stillness suggested something deeper and stronger than sleep. His features looked severe, even in repose, and a rough beard straggled over his face.

‘He’s been like this for nearly a week now,’ Lyra said. Her insouciant air had evaporated, and she sounded like a scared, lonely young girl. ‘He went out in wolf form, with his daemon. He made me stay behind – he said he had something he needed to do, but he never came back.’

‘And he can’t wake up?’ Lee asked. Lyra shook her head.

‘No, because he’s not there to wake up. It’s our spirits that turn into wolves. He’ll sleep forever, until his spirit comes back to his human body. And that spirit will stay a wolf forever, too,’ Lyra told him. Despite her grim words, her voice was steady, and Lee’s admiration for her surged.

‘Lyra, I hate to ask this, but how do you know he’s still alive?’ Lee enquired bluntly. ‘What if he got hurt as a wolf?’

‘He’s not dead,’ Lyra said, and to his relief she didn’t sound upset by the suggestion. ‘He’s breathing. I check on him every day. If he’d been killed as a wolf, he’d die here too. No, he’s alive somewhere. I just don’t know where. I’ve waited and waited…A few days ago, I started going into town. To see if I could find him or learn summing useful. And I was hanging round Jordan, and I heard one of the porters complaining about a beast in the cellars –’

‘So you broke in,’ Lee finished for her.

‘Yeah,’ Lyra confirmed. ‘I know all the ways into Jordan. I just wasn’t expecting all the guards – they were never there before.’

‘They’re there to keep an eye on a particular scholar, I’ll warrant,’ Lee muttered, recalling Mrs Coulter’s words about leaving guards to monitor the scholar working on the nature of the human spirit. ‘Lyra, do you know a Dr Van Buskirk?’

‘Yes,’ Lyra nodded. ‘Julian Van Buskirk. My father says he’ll be a great man someday – if the Magisterium doesn’t crush him.’

Lyra let the curtain fall. Lee stood upright and surveyed her.

‘Lyra, I think I know what’s happened to your father,’ he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord Asriel - James MacAvoy 
> 
> The structure of the wolf pack and the wolf behaviour in this chapter is taken from Barry Lopez's excellent book 'Of Wolves and Men.' Although first published in 1978, it's still in print today and offers a very different view of wild wolves than that of the ravening, murderous beasts that still abounds in popular culture.
> 
> A short chapter today, but I'll post more soon. This fic has been such a joy to write so far, but we'll be getting into angsty territory before long... till next time, dear readers!


	6. Telling Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee and Lyra become partners in crime, and Lee tells her of his past exploits.

Lee’s story took far less time to tell than Lyra’s, but the afternoon was well underway by the time it ended. Partly because Lyra kept interrupting with exclamations of outrage or apprehension, and partly because the wolves kept coming up and nuzzling them or trying to coax them to play. Except Rattail, who lay down next to Hester and gazed at her devotedly.

‘Wolf’s got good taste,’ was all Hester said.

When he was finished, Lee was parched, and Lyra directed him to a spring concealed in another recess in the rock. Lee was struck by how well set-up her father’s camp was but supposed if he’d been sheltering here for a decade, he’d had time to make the place comfortable.

He took a long drink of water so cold it made his teeth ache and turned round to see Lyra stuffing things in a battered old knapsack – rope, a knife, crampons.

‘Lyra, I hope you’re not planning on doing what I think you’re doing,’ he said.

‘Depends on what you think,’ Lyra muttered, continuing her preparations.

‘Offhand, I’d say you’re planning to go back to Jordan College and rescue your pa,’ Lee guessed – though there was no guesswork about it.

‘I am, and you’re not stopping me,’ Lyra growled, almost literally. ‘The wolves will hold you back if you try.’

Lee glanced down at Nose-scar, who was standing alongside him. The wolf heaved an eloquent sigh.

‘Leave it to me, buddy,’ Lee whispered to him. Then, louder: ‘I’m sure they will. But what will they do when you get yourself caught or injured? Are they going to come and save you? Hide out here and hope for the best?’

‘I won’t get caught,’ Lyra proclaimed, stopping what she was doing at last and turning to glare at Lee. ‘I told you, I know all the ways in and out of Jordan, and I’ll keep an eye out for security this time. I’ll sneak in, find my father and get him out of there. Tonight.’

‘Okay, fine. So, you sneak in,’ surmised Lee, taking care not to sound too sceptical. ‘I accept _that_ will be easy. But after? Do you know where your father is being held? If you find out, will you be able to get him out of there? I guarantee, they’ve got him locked up tight. I mean cages, constant surveillance, you name it. He might even be sedated to keep him quiet. And should you manage to get in there, and get hold of him, you still need to get him out of Jordan, out of Oxford and then back here with the Magisterium and the police on your tails – no pun intended.’

He paused then, hoping his reasonable words would overcome Lyra’s mulish intent. Pantalaimon, currently shaped like a little black cat, looked at Lee for a long moment and then up at Lyra.

‘Lyra, I think we ought to listen to him,’ he said.

‘Damn right you should,’ Lee remarked. ‘Lyra, what you’re about to try is suicide. I’ve gone up against the Magisterium before, and those guys are no joke. Not to mention whatever the City Council has in store. You’ll get yourself killed or caught, and how’s that going to benefit your pa?’

Lyra threw the knapsack on the ground, her eyes blazing with temper.

‘So what do you want me to do?’ she demanded. ‘Hide here and forget about him? Leave him to rot?’

‘No,’ Lee answered, raising his voice just a little. ‘I want you to simmer down and _think_. If you go charging in now, no plans, no information, you’ll be killed. What you need to do is _prepare_. We need to scout this place out. Find out exactly where your father is being held. Who’s guarding him. Who might be willing to look the other way if you slip them a few dollars. And that’s gonna take some time, true, but it’s what we need to do if we’re going to have a hope in hell of succeeding.’ 

‘And just abandon my father?’ Lyra scowled. Lee just about resisted the urge to smack himself in the head in frustration.

‘You’re not dumb, Lyra, so stop acting like you are,’ he growled back. ‘I never mentioned abandoning him. I meant working so we actually stand a chance of getting him out of there alive. If you’d been caught, and your father had to rescue you, do you think _he’d_ go in all guns blazing? No, from what you’ve told me, he’d use his head and work out a plan. Because he’s smart.’

‘He’s right, Lyra,’ said Pan, twining between her legs. ‘We have to take time and plan this.’

Lyra continued to scowl at Lee, but he sensed the danger had passed. He seated himself on the stone bench again and waited.

Lyra stared and the ground and pouted. Pantalaimon nipped her on the ankle, and she yelped. Hester chuckled.

Defeated, Lyra walked back over to the bench and sank to sit beside Lee. She propped her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists, managing to look both depressed and resolute. The watching wolves made consoling whimpers. Nose-scar walked over and nuzzled against her in sympathetic fashion.

‘So, what now?’ Lyra asked Lee.

‘Well,’ Lee sighed. ‘Now we do reconnaissance, like I said. First of all, we need to find out exactly where your father’s being held. Jordan seems likely, but we need to be certain. Then, we find out the security measures in place. Guards, for certain, but there might be alarm systems, or he could be locked up somewhere. We need to gather information. _Then_ , we make a rescue plan.’

Lyra sat up straight and nodded. Lee was beginning to understand she’d follow directions if she saw the sense in them, which was something of a relief. He didn’t fancy having to try and wrangle a wolf-girl and her daemon into obedience. Oh, he’d win in the end – Lee was contrary as a mule when he had a mind to be, as Hester had observed more than once – but it would be a real time waster.

‘You keep saying _we_ ,’ Lyra said without preamble, jolting Lee from his thoughts. ‘You mean you’re going to help me rescue my father?’

‘I guess I do,’ answered Lee. Lyra looked confused.

‘But why? I’ve never done nothing for you,’ she protested. Lee’s heart ached a little.

‘Well, kid, I hauled you out of the fire twice, and I suppose that makes me a bit responsible for you,’ Lee answered honestly enough. ‘‘Sides, the Magisterium’s involved in this and I can’t say as I like them much. I’d welcome the opportunity to put a burr up their noses.’

Lyra looked at him quizzically.

‘You’re a strange man,’ she said thoughtfully. Hester snickered.

‘Lyra!’ Pantalaimon protested.

‘What?’ she exclaimed. ‘It was a compliment!’

‘I’ll take it as one,’ Lee remarked, standing up and stretching. ‘Let’s get the ball rolling. First thing tomorrow, Lyra, we’re doing some scouting round Jordan. We need to find out where your father is exactly. And then we need to find out what it’ll take to get him out.’

‘What about tonight?’ Lyra suggested, but Lee shook his head.

‘We gotta sleep sometime, kid. Besides, by the time we make it back to Oxford it’ll be growing dark, and we won’t be able to do much. You can explain hanging round the colleges in daylight, but at night...’

Lyra looked unhappy but didn’t protest. Lee, seeing her misery, cast about for a distraction.

‘Lee! Get her to tell you about the wolves!’ whispered Hester.

‘Say, why don’t we set up camp for tonight and you can introduce me to these fellas?’ Lee suggested without missing a beat, jerking his thumb to indicate the wolf pack. ‘If we’re going to be allies, I wouldn’t mind knowing a bit more about them.’

Lyra perked up slightly.

‘Would you tell me about the North, too?’ she asked. ‘I always wanted to go North. I hoped my father would take me sometime, but he’s wanted to stop here ever since he took me away from Jordan.’

‘Deal,’ said Lee. ‘Now, can we risk a fire?’

###

It turned out there was no need to risk a fire, as the camp had a naptha stove. Lee, who was familiar with such devices, heated it up while Lyra rummaged through the supplies in search of something for supper.

Lee, who had probably talked more that afternoon than in the three weeks preceding it, continued to ask questions about anything he thought might be relevant: Jordan College, the layout of its buildings, its cellars, the fastest route out of Oxford, and so forth. He also asked for information on Dr Van Buskirk’s research and the City Council, hoping to work out precisely how they slotted into whatever was transpiring with the wolfwalkers.

Lyra supplied the information willingly where she had it – though she was forced to admit she’d never paid the slightest bit of attention to Dr Van Buskirk’s research, even when he’d been tasked with teaching her. She’d liked the man, however, as instead of trying to shoehorn facts into her head he’d usually just surrendered to the inevitable and given her a book from his substantial private library. The books were always about something exciting like explorers in Greenland or the Andean Nations or folk tales of Brytain, and Lyra had devoured them.

Likewise, Lyra couldn’t tell him anything about the City Council or Alderman Danvers, but she was a tremendous authority on anything to do with Jordan College. Lee sharpened a stick with his penknife and scratched a rough map of the college’s layout in the dirt. The sheer size of the college – its multitude of buildings and passageways and cellars – was discouraging. Lyra’s father, assuming he was being held there, could be in any number of locations.

One thing that intrigued Lee, however, was the revelation that a tributary of the Isis flowed under Jordan and had been used to deliver supplies to the college since time immemorial. He tucked the information away in his mind, sure it would come in useful somehow.

Lyra also told him about her wolfpack as requested. Lee could already recognise Nose-scar and Rattail. Of the six others, the grey excitable one was Towser, the omega of the pack, who wasn’t so much the lowest ranking wolf as a court jester, always the first to initiate play. Two of the bigger wolves were cubs from a previous litter, a male and female. Quill, the female, had a black stripe along one flank, hence her name. White-paw, the male, had a white left hind paw. The remaining three wolves were nearly grown cubs from the latest litter, two females and a male, only one of whom had a name. This was Acorn, named by Lyra, a beautiful young female wolf with unusual light brown eyes.

‘The others are too daft to have names,’ Lyra said with teasing affection, rubbing one of the nameless wolves on the belly.

‘Hard luck, pal,’ Lee remarked to the other, who yipped and ran off to play with Towser.

‘They’ll get names when they’re ready for them,’ Lyra continued.

‘How do you know when they’re ready?’ Lee queried.

‘We just do, somehow,’ said Lyra, and Lee had to be content with that.

‘Say, Lyra, how is it that you can talk to them?’ he continued, as Lyra brought out a rabbit, already cleaned and skinned, to be made into stew. She paused, pursing up her mouth thoughtfully.

‘It’s difficult to explain,’ she answered. ‘I _think_ at them, mostly, and they hear me somehow. And then they think back at me, and I hear them.’

‘And you understand them?’ Lee asked. Lyra shrugged.

‘Mostly. Wolves think differently to us. They don’t have a lot of words for things. They say things like _deer, hunt, now_. Or just _hungry_. Towser says that a lot. They don’t always understand me, either, but I’ve got better at saying stuff to them. It’s easier when – easier at night. And my father and me can have whole conversations by thinking at each other, when…’

‘When you turn into one of them?’ Lee prompted gently. Lyra nodded.

‘Is that’s what’s going to happen tonight?’ Lee asked. Lyra nodded again.

‘Probably. Sometimes I don’t if I’m too tired. But usually I do.’

‘And what about Pantalaimon?’ Lee asked. His curiosity about this had been raging. He couldn’t imagine being separated from Hester, even for a few moments, and nor did he wish to.

‘He nearly always comes with me,’ Lyra said. ‘Sometimes he’s tired too, and he stops with my body when I sleep. I never go too far when that happens, though, in case he needs me.’

‘Isn’t that a bit… strange?’ Lee asked, though _strange_ wasn’t nearly strong enough to covey what Lee meant. A human being without a daemon was like a person with no face, or a disembodied head still talking and seeing. Something utterly wrong and unnatural. Though perhaps Lyra wasn’t entirely human, now he thought of it.

‘It was at first,’ Pantalaimon piped up. ‘But we got used to it.’

‘Hmm,’ remarked Lee. ‘Perhaps you’re like the witches in the North. They can separate from their daemons. Sometimes they travel hundreds of miles away from each other.’

Lyra’s expression at this revelation was one of pure wonderment, and Lee quietly resolved that he’d see it much more often in future.

‘That’s amazing,’ Lyra murmured. ‘It’s a little like me and Pan. He can’t go too far from me when I’m a wolf – he has to stay either with me or with my body. But he has the choice.’

‘Doesn’t sound much like Serafina Pekkala and her sisters to me,’ said Hester. ‘Their daemons come and go as they please, doesn’t matter about distance. Bit unnerving till you get used to it.’

‘You mean you’ve actually met a witch?’ Lyra exclaimed. Pantalaimon turned himself into a magpie and chattered with excitement.

‘Sure,’ Lee said, setting an iron pot atop the stove and pouring in water to boil the rabbit. ‘A witch-queen, as a matter of fact. Did her and her clan a service, just before I travelled here.’

‘Tell me,’ Lyra demanded, and Lee grinned.

###

Lee told Lyra and Pan the story as they all prepared dinner. Encountering Serafina Pekkala in Iceland where he’d been stranded by bad weather, helping her fend off the locals who were harassing her, convinced she’d brought them bad luck. How she’d confided in him, needing a human’s assistance.

It transpired that some of Serafina’s clan-sisters were desperately ill with some strange malady, and none of their spells or blood moss could cure it. Serafina had travelled to Iceland in search of a rare herb, that grew on the mountain slopes there. However, she was unable to collect it as no witch could set foot on the mountains of Iceland due to the _Huldufólk –_ the Hidden Folk.

(‘What are they?’ asked Lyra.

‘Invisible beings. Well, invisible to us regular folk. They’re magical creatures, who live in the mountains of Iceland. The natives there live alongside them. You’ve got to be careful not to offend them, or they’ll make your life a misery. And you can’t see them, unless they want you to.’)

This was the root of Serafina Pekkala’s difficulty. The Hidden Folk had been at war with witches for as long as even the exceptionally long-lived witches could recall. The source of the conflict was known only to a few, but from the little Serafina told him, Lee guessed that long ago a witch had insulted the Hidden Folk. They never forgot a slight and refused to tolerate the presences of witches on their land, even if they came in peace. Serafina’s sisters were in danger of death, and worse, the illness had spread to some of the residents of Iceland, hence their hostility to her.

Lee, upon hearing this tale, volunteered to gather the herbs she needed. It was a tricky operation, but he succeeded. He’d had strange dreams before setting out for the mountain, of sitting drinking with a huge, black-haired man dressed in grey, who had cautioned him to show respect to the Hidden Folk. And when he was walking up the mountain, he found his way blocked by a broad-shouldered, black-haired woman dressed in grey, who rudely bade him to find another way.

Recalling the dream, Lee had tipped his hat to her and done as he was bid. He’d searched for hours and found the herb just as mist descended on the mountain, as thick as molasses, hiding the way back. He was at a loss, but then had spotted a strange blue light that had glowed in the fog, an eerie lantern. It had danced and writhed before him, urging him to follow.

When he’d followed it, it had led him safely down the mountain to where Serafina Pekkala was waiting. He’d assumed it was a spell cast by the witch, but she’d denied doing any such thing. Lee supposed he must have made a good impression on the _Huldufólk._

Serafina distilled the herbs into a remedy, for both her sisters and the Icelanders, and cured them of their illnesses. And promised Lee her eternal friendship, before sending him on his way with a fair wind spelled by her and her sisters.

Lee left out one thing though. Of how, when she’d sworn her friendship, Serafina had also given him a little red flower from the crown she wore to mark her status. She told him that should he ever need her, he had only to hold it and call to her, and she would hear him. Save his balloon, it was the most precious thing he owned, and he wanted to keep it hidden, kept safe, even from a brave wolf-girl. The red flower was a last resort, and Lee didn’t want things to go that far, not now.

Lyra was entranced by Lee’s tale, and it made for a pleasant evening, eating by the stove and answering her questions about witches and the Hidden Folk, while the wolves napped. Night fell, and Lyra lit some lanterns. They ate while the wolves began to wake up, stretching and trotting round, in preparation for hunting.

‘The North sounds amazing,’ Lyra said, rather wistfully, after they’d devoured the stew and some rather stale bread from her father’s stores.

‘It can be dangerous,’ Lee said honestly. ‘It’s a wild place, but the authorities are weaker than down here. It’s why I’ve spent most of my life travelling in the North. A man can live a free life out there.’

‘I’ll go there, someday,’ Lyra murmured, eyelids beginning to droop.

‘You will, kid,’ Lee answered, firmly believing her, before standing up and rubbing the kinks out of his back. ‘Where should I sleep?’

Lyra disappeared into what seemed to be the store-cave and emerged with a sleeping pack.

‘I haven’t got any spare pillows,’ she said apologetically as she handed it over.

‘Don’t worry,’ Lee told her. ‘I’ve slept in far worse places. I’ll just use my coat. Let’s get some shuteye. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.’

Lyra nodded.

‘Thank you, Mr Scoresby,’ she blurted out. ‘For – for helping.’

‘You’re welcome, miss,’ he smiled. ‘Now, get some sleep.’

She smiled back and turned to enter another small, curtained recess in the cliffs that Lee presumed was a bedroom of sorts. He left her to it and unrolled the sleeping pack, balling his coat up as he’d said. He clambered in and lay down, Hester hopping up to lie on his chest as usual.

‘Quite a day,’ she said.

‘Quite a day,’ Lee agreed.

‘So, what next?’

‘Getting the lay of the land,’ Lee shrugged. ‘Finding where this Asriel is being held, and what it’ll take to get him out of there. I’ve a mind to talk to Iorek, too. He’ll probably be willing to help out if the wolfwalkers are involved.’

‘He’s not exactly inconspicuous.’

‘No, but he’s got muscle. Good in a fight.’

‘You think things will come to fighting?’

‘I sure hope not,’ Lee sighed. He disliked fighting, he always had, despite the fact that he was good at it. ‘But we’ve got to be prepared for it, Hester.’

They lay in silence for a long moment.

‘How’d I get myself into this, Hester?’ Lee asked. His daemon harrumphed.

‘If I knew _that_ , we probably would’ve avoided it. Not to mention all the trouble you’ve gotten us into over the years,’ she sniped. Lee rubbed her head.

‘But at the end of the day, there’s a kid that needs taking care of,’ Hester continued. ‘You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t step up.’

‘I’m not looking for entanglements, Hester. I just wanted to check on Iorek.’

‘Well, we’ve checked on Iorek and it’s a bit late to be worrying about entanglements. You’ve got one. That girl needs us.’

‘Till she gets her father back,’ Lee murmured, closing his eyes and beginning to sink into the netherworld between asleep and awake.

‘Yeah, we’ll get him back for her,’ Hester agreed, snuggling close.

They lay together, listening to the sounds of the woods at night. The haunting cries of owls, the sharp bark of a fox somewhere, the trees whispering. The grunts and grumbles of the wolves as they prepared for the hunt. The faint sputtering of the lanterns as they flickered.

Then Lee sank into slumber, and all the world fell away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, the pack structure and wolf behaviour in this chapter is taken from Lopez's 'Of Wolves and Men.'
> 
> The Huldufólk, or Hidden Folk, in Icelandic folklore are supernatural beings who live in nature, and have to power to make themselves invisible. To this day, some Icelanders still believe in them, though it's not clear how many. But as recently as 2013, road construction in Iceland was halted because the local people believed it would disturb the Hidden Folk. 
> 
> Sorry about the info dump in this chapter. A better author might have been able to work it into the story elsewhere, but after a few chapters of scene-setting I wanted to get going with the action. Angst and adventure will abound from the next chapter onwards... till next time, dear readers!


	7. Wolfwalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night in the forest.
> 
> WARNING: A deer is hunted and killed in this chapter. I've marked the beginning of the graphic parts of this chapter with a + sign. If you find this sort of thing upsetting, I recommend stopping at this point and waiting for the next chapter.

Mother of Christ, no one has seen your eyes: how can men pray

Even unto you?

There were only wolves’ eyes in the wood - 

Charlotte Mew, 'The Fête'

_Mr Scoresby?_

Someone was calling him. Lee, who was drifting in the betwixt place that is not quite dreaming, was roused by it, and tried to pinpoint the someone.

_Mr Scoresby? I’ve got to go now._

No, not someone – Lyra. She was moving about the clearing. He could hear her feet rustling the leaves of a decade’s worth of autumns.

_Lyra?_ He tried to call. _Lyra, where are you going?_

_Hunting. It’s time. I’ll be back by morning._

Lee heard the pack, moving restless in the confined space, uttering little whimpers of excitement, their energy pressing against him. He tried to open his eyes, sit up, take it in, but he couldn’t move.

_Lyra, don’t go,_ he said. _It’s dangerous out there. The hunters…_

_I’ll be careful,_ she answered.

It was wrong, all wrong, Lyra going out alone, only the wolves to watch over her. Lee struggled to rise, to talk her out of it, but his limbs wouldn’t obey him. It was as though they’d been turned into lead, his legs and arms felt so heavy and useless. Even his eyelids felt weighted down, as if the two coins to pay the ferryman had been laid atop them.

_I’m going now,_ Lyra said. _Wait here for me._

_Hang on – no,_ Lee cried, and fought with all his tremendous will to rise and follow her. He felt as if he’d been weighed down with chains, but as he thrashed, they seemed to loosen. With a final almighty heave, he broke free and found himself standing in the clearing. The wolves were just vanishing though the tunnel, the golden wolf that was Lyra at the rear.

She disappeared into the dark and Lee ran after her.

_Wait up!_ He called, racing through the passage and out into the starlit night.

He chased after the wolves, tracking them through the woods with ease despite their swiftness. There was enough light to see by, though it lent everything a strange silvery tint. He dodged round a clump of brambles, jumped over a log and espied the pack, which had paused to sniff out prey.

_Lyra! Hang on now!_ He called again, skidding to a halt.

His words alerted the wolves, who turned, ears pricked, to confront the interloper. And then – then. It was though a switch had been thrown and an anbaric current had shocked them. Their ears went back and all of them began snarling, bone-white teeth sharp and merciless. The fur on their necks and shoulders was standing straight up as though from static, and their eyes held nothing but rage and suspicion, a stark contrast from their earlier welcome.

Lee, utterly thrown by the hostility, backed up a few paces, keeping his movements slow. _Lyra, where are you?_

The small golden wolf he’d seen on that first, fateful night circled from the rear of the pack to stand and stare at him. It was strange, but Lee sensed rather than saw her amazement.

_Mr Scoresby?_

_Yeah, who were you expecting?_

Silence descended and held everyone in a strangling grip. Even the woods around them were still and quiet.

_Okay,_ Lee said at last. _This is getting a bit worrisome now._

_Mr – Mr Scoresby,_ Lyra said, flummoxed. _Why didn’t you_ say?

Lee blinked at her, bewildered in turn. The wolfpack had stopped snarling, but were milling around, twitchy, sharing in the confusion.

_Say what?_ Lee asked at last.

A reddish wolf who wasn’t a wolf – Pantalaimon – jogged up to stand beside Lyra. He studied Lee, before sitting down suddenly.

‘Lyra, I don’t think he knows,’ Pan said, shocked.

_How could he not?_ Lyra asked, uttering a whine of frustration.

_What am I supposed to know?_ Lee demanded in exasperation. _Hester, help me out here. Hester? Hester? HESTER!_

But she wasn’t there.

Lee spun in a circle, but his rangy daemon was nowhere. He couldn’t see or hear her, and she wasn’t answering his calls. His beloved Hester, the darling companion of his heart, was missing.

Lee’s world tilted. Without meaning to, he whimpered in fear.

Something brushed against him, and he realised it was Lyra nuzzling against him, trying to comfort him. He stood, rigid with terror, not pulling away but not reciprocating either.

‘It’s all right, Mr Scoresby,’ Pantalaimon said, his voice frenzy overlaid with a veneer of reasonableness. ‘Hester will be fine. She’ll be back at our den, sleeping with you.’

_What? Sleeping_ with _me? What in the screaming hell is happening?!_ He broke away from Lyra and stood glaring at the wolves, his entire body aching with loneliness, with the utter aloneness and bizarreness of his situation. Lyra, sensing his distress, grasped the nettle.

_You’ve turned into a wolf, Mr Scoresby_ , she explained, and Pan nodded, a strange thing to see a wolf do. _You’re a wolfwalker._

The words seemed to echo around his skull. _Wolfwalker. You’re a wolf, a wolfwalker, wolf…_

_No,_ Lee answered, shaking his head. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Denial of something wholly outlandish. _I can’t be. I’m a man. A human man, with an Arctic hare for a daemon. Till today, I barely even_ saw _a wolf at close quarters –_

He broke off, certain things chipping away at his disavowal. The struggle to rise and make his limbs move back in the den. The ease with which he’d chased after Lyra and the wolves. The greyish cast to his surroundings. Even talking to Lyra as he had been doing…

He hadn’t heard his voice. He hadn’t heard his voice speaking. Nor Lyra’s. Just the words, in his mind.

_No_ , he said again, but his certainty was fading like mist in the morning.

_Look at yourself,_ Lyra suggested.

Lee hesitated. Then, counter to Lyra’s suggestion, he tried to raise his hands before his face.

He couldn’t. His arms wouldn’t rise high enough. He did an odd little hop-skip, his arms and hands – which were on the ground, he grasped now – leaving the earth but the joints and muscles not moving as he intended them to. He landed softly, barely making a sound.

_This is crazy_ , he muttered to no-one and everyone, and only then did he look down at his hands.

Except he didn’t have hands. Instead of his work-roughened, weather-beaten palms and fingers, he saw two massive, black-furred wolf paws.

Lee tried to lift the left one. It rose obligingly.

He looked back at Lyra. He wanted to curse, demand an explanation, beg to be turned back to a man and reunited with Hester. The words wouldn’t come.

_Lyra…_ was all he could say, all his fear and the tiniest glimmer of wonder suffusing her name.

_It’s all right!_ She said, nuzzling against him again. _It’ll be all right. I’ll help you. It’s my turn to help you, now._

_I need to find Hester,_ Lee murmured. It was the only thing he could do, the only thing he could think. Find his daemon, reunite with her. But then he wondered wildly what Hester would do when she saw him like this. Would she be scared? Disgusted? Flick her ears and remark that ‘you can’t keep out of trouble for ten minutes, can you, Lee?’

‘She’s fine. Try not to fret,’ Pantalaimon said again. ‘You haven’t lost her, Mr Scoresby. She’s back with your body in the den.’

_Pan and I thought we might pull apart when I turned for the first time,_ Lyra added, trying to reassure him. _But we didn’t. He’s still mine, and I’m his._

The wild wolves, listening to the strange exchange, began to venture closer, inspecting the newcomer. Lee held perfectly still, not wanting to agitate them.

_It’s all right!_ Lyra said, and her laugh rang through Lee’s mind. _Everyone, it’s Mr Scoresby. He’s a wolfwalker, like me and Father!_

The wolves at once began wagging their tails, their excitement palpable. Lee, finally beginning to comprehend the night’s events, was relieved at their sudden change of heart. He was as helpless as a new-born lamb, he realised with chagrin. He might be a wolf, something he still didn’t quite believe, but he didn’t know how to fight as one. If the pack had turned against him, he would’ve been a goner in five seconds flat.

‘We’d better take him back to the den,’ Pantalaimon was saying. ‘He needs to see his daemon. It won’t be safe out here, until he learns to be a wolf.’

_But what about the pack, Pan? They haven’t hunted properly for two days, they need the meat._

‘Let them go by themselves for one night. It’s quiet enough –’

Men’s voices sounded nearby, making an unwitting liar of the daemon. The words were indistinct, but their mutterings and the snorts and stampings of the horses they rode were ominous.

_Hell,_ Lee muttered, the jarringly familiar noises jolting him from his haze of amazement. _Hunters again! We need to get away from here._

_River!_ Lyra cried, and at once the wolves began to swirl round and break into a trot, presumably towards the river.

_Mr Scoresby, you got to run with us,_ she continued. _We’re going to outrun the hunters, and cross the river, so’s they can’t track us. Just stay by us, and you’ll be fine. The pack will protect you._

Lee hesitated, something he’d hardly ever done in his life.

_Hester…_ he murmured.

_I’ll take you back to her as soon as it’s safe – promise. But we have to go._

Lee heard the earnestness in Lyra’s voice. It left deep lacerations on his heart, but he knew he had to do as she said.

_Come on then,_ he answered. _You’ll have to show me the way._

_I will,_ Lyra said. _Now, run as fast as you can. Just don’t think too hard about doing it, and you’ll be fine._

She took off into the trees, an arrow loosed from a bow.

Lee ran after her.

The wolves were easy to keep sight of. Lee followed Lyra’s advice and tried not to think too hard about how he was going on four legs now, or how they were working together. As for the running itself, that was gloriously easy. Lee knew he was moving fast, faster than he ever could as a man, and yet he was barely breathing hard.

His ears were getting pummelled. Sounds flung themselves at him from every direction – the wolves up ahead, owls and other night birds calling, the wind rustling the leaves in the trees, the _clop-clop_ of horses, somewhere behind them. And from up ahead, running water. The river. Salvation.

_Down here!_ Lyra cried, and he saw her just ahead. The wolves had slowed their pace slightly, and within moments he found himself surrounded by them, jostling as they descended a steep culvert towards a broad, fast flowing stretch of water, black as jet save where moonlight glimmered on the ripples.

Lee was bracing himself for the shock of immersion – he’d gone through the ice into brain-freezingly cold water before – but either the thick coat of fur he possessed now or some wolfish hardiness made the water cold but bearable. And it was shallow, too. As the pack splashed its way across, the water came up to his shoulders but no higher.

He looked around for Lyra and was alarmed to see her just managing to keep her head above the water. He hadn’t realised just how much larger than her his wolf-form was. But she was fording the river with gusto, and within a couple of minutes they were scrambling onto the opposite bank.

_You okay, kid?_ Lee couldn’t help but ask.

_I’m fine, I’ve done that a thousand times,_ she replied with airy unconcern.

Lee was just about to make some smart-aleck remark in return when the sounds of pursuit – horses at a canter, and the bark of a dog-daemon – sounded from just behind them. Lee paused on the bank to search for their adversaries but was bewildered when he saw nothing on the opposite riverside but the trees and the undergrowth, in various shades of grey and silver.

_They’re not as close as they sound,_ Lyra informed him. _Your ears are sharper, now. Come on, we need to go before they reach the river._

She turned and ran. Lee ran too, along with a slender wolf he realised was the nameless young male. The wolf kept pace with Lee without any discernible effort, occasionally veering closer to him, or widening the gap between them so that Lee was forced to swerve sideways or alter course to keep his companion in view. Lee realised the wolf was guiding him through the woods, finding the most straightforward route around obstacles and through the trees.

_Thanks, pal,_ he thought, and the wolf did a little leap forward as he ran, evidently sensing Lee’s gratitude.

The wolves ran silent through the woodland, and although it was hard to tell how long they ran for, or for what distance, it seemed only a minute or two before Lyra called _that’s far enough, now._

The wolves slowed and gradually came to a halt in a large clearing, milling around, occasionally uttering a little bark of delight but most showing their exhilaration by leaping around or spinning in circles. The young male came and rubbed his head against Lee’s shoulder.

_Thanks,_ he said again. _You’re a good tracker._

_He is,_ came Lyra’s voice. She came into view and butted her head against the young male affectionately. _Good work._

_Have we escaped then?_ Lee queried.

_We’ll have to stay alert, but we’ve come far enough now that they probably won’t be able to catch up,_ she answered. _We’re near the southern edge of the woods, so it’s farmers we’ve got to worry about down here. Lots of pasture nearby, but the farmers don’t usually bother us unless the wolves kill sheep._

_I’m guessing you prevent that,_ Lee remarked. Lyra grinned, quite literally, her predator’s teeth shining.

_My father and I do. The wolves are used to it now._

_That’s more than I am_ , Lee said, the adrenaline beginning to drain away, leaving him feeling shaky and unsettled. Lyra regarded him with a hunter’s eyes.

_This has never happened to you before? Really and truly, this is the first time you’ve become a wolf?_

_Kid, I swear to you, I’ve been a man and no more than that my whole life. I don’t know what’s happened to me, or why it’s happened._

‘I believe him,’ said Pantalaimon, trotting over to stand by Lyra. ‘He’s had no reason to hide it from us. We would’ve trusted him much more easily if he’d been another wolfwalker.’

Lyra accepted this with equanimity, which was more than Lee could summon at the moment. He felt… hollow, incomplete, without Hester beside him.

_Perhaps I’m dreaming,_ he murmured to no-one in particular. _I’ve been having some pretty strange dreams about wolves of late. Maybe this is another._

Even as he uttered the words (or thought them), Lee knew they were untrue. He wasn’t dreaming. The experience was too vivid for a dream. The coolness of the night air, the smell of petrichor rising up from the ground, the feel of earth and leaves beneath his – well, paws. No, Lee was in a new world, but he was definitely in the world, and not a dreamland.

_You’re not dreaming,_ Lyra said gently. _It seems like it at first, it’s just so – odd. Not what you’re used to. But you’re here, a wolf. With us. Come with me._

The change in tack was so abrupt Lee took a moment to comprehend her. But when he did, he followed the small golden wolf to where a large puddle was nestled in a dip in the ground. The water was peaceful and undisturbed beneath the trees, a perfect mirror, for Lee guessed at once what Lyra’s purpose was.

He crept up on the damn thing like it was going to run away from him. He made it to the rim and looked in.

It was just as in the dream he’d had – hell, the night before this one? It seemed aeons ago. A wolf was looking back at him from the water. It had black fur, the same colour as his hair, and dark eyes that even as a wolf had a sardonic look to them. And it was _big_. Lee estimated the wolf stood nearly three feet high at the shoulder, and it probably weighed well over a hundred pounds.

_That’s me?_ He couldn’t help but ask.

A smaller wolf with light fur appeared and stood next to the massive creature.

_That’s you,_ Lyra confirmed. _I never seen a wolf with such dark fur before. Father’s is light brown._

Lee tilted his head. The wolf in the pool did the same.

_Cripes,_ said Lee, staring at his new reflection. He would have liked to use a much stronger word, but there was a child in the vicinity, regardless of what she looked like. He heard her giggle, in his mind.

Then the image in the pool was shattered as the wolfpack converged, plunging their forepaws into the water and lowering their heads to drink. Lee and Lyra retreated a few paces.

_Sorry about that,_ Lyra said. _The pack isn’t interested in their reflections, they don’t understand them._

_Leave them to it,_ Lee sighed. _I don’t know as_ I _understand it, yet. How did this happen?_

_I’m not sure,_ Lyra began, but was interrupted by a bark from Nose-scar. He’d taken his drink and was sniffing a patch of ground intently. The wolves all left the puddle and jogged to stand around him, most of them scenting the ground too.

‘They’ve found a trail,’ Pantalaimon said, watching. ‘That herd of deer, probably, or they wouldn’t be so excited.’

_It’s going to be tough to pull them away,_ Lyra murmured. _But we need to take Mr Scoresby back –_

‘Lyra, it would be too dangerous,’ Pan interrupted. ‘The hunters will be criss-crossing the woods for hours, laying traps and hiding from us. We need to wait.’

_The wolves would be willing – well, not willing but they’d do it. And I could keep them quiet –_

_No, let’s stay out and let the pack hunt,_ Lee broke in. All the wolves, not just Lyra, swung round to stare at him, and all of sudden he was mighty glad he was a wolf and couldn’t show any of the strange emotions surging within him on his countenance. _If they haven’t eaten for a couple of days, it’s not fair to force them away – especially not to take one hell of a risk for me._

Lyra hesitated, evidently torn between the desire to hunt and wondering what to do about Lee, a brand-new wolf who knew zero about what he’d turned into and was a furry liability. As Lee had gotten his stupid self into this situation, as usual, he decided to take action regarding it.

_Let’s go with them, kid,_ he said. _Can’t guarantee I’ll be much use, but I think I can keep up no problem. We can head back to the den in a few hours, when hopefully the hunters will have called it a night._

‘But what about –’ Pantalaimon began, and then flinched as Lyra snapped at him. Lee knew what he’d been about to ask.

_Hester will wait for me,_ he said, even as something inside him seemed to crack open and begin bleeding. _She’s a tough customer. She’ll be okay._

Lyra said nothing, but from the way she nuzzled against Pantalaimon in apology, she knew what this course of action was costing Lee.

_We’ll make it a fast hunt,_ she said. _Come on, Nose-scar will lead the pack._

_###_

Lee had hunted before. On the Texas prairies, on the tundra, even on the great ice flows of Greenland and Bolvangar. Hunting, in his experience, needed skill, a steady eye, an even steadier hand and vast reserves of patience. Waiting, for the prey, for the opportunity, for a clear shot, was your greatest ability in a hunt.

Wolves didn’t bother waiting.

Nose-scar led the pack as Lyra had said he would. He ran through the woods with utter surety, in long loping strides that ate up the miles like fire. Every so often, he would pause to sniff at the ground or a clump of plants while the other wolves clustered round, waiting to scent the trail in their turn.

_What is it they’re after?_ Lee asked after the second pause.

_Deer,_ Lyra informed him. _That’s why they’re so excited. Other nights, they have to make do with rabbits, or even mice. Or fish, sometimes._

_Hmm,_ Lee said as they all took off running again. _That would explain the smell. It’s strong stuff._

It’s true – even hanging back, the musk of the deer’s tarsal glands was overpowering. Lyra gave a little yip of approval.

_That’s good,_ she told him. _You need to learn to use your nose. Can you tell where the deer have been? Where they’re going?_

Lee paused willingly enough to try and distinguish the deer’s trail. It was difficult. There was a riot of sensation assailing his nose, his sense of smell grown far beyond human perception. Damp earth, the vegetation ranging from the sharp tang of wild garlic to the sweetness of cow parsley, the stink of what he thought was a fox, the acrid scent of rabbits, the gentle moulder of mast below the trees, the warm animal smell of the pack, fading slightly as they moved away…

_It’s too much,_ he gasped, shaking himself out of a trance.

_No, it’s not,_ Lyra said firmly. _You’re just not used to it. Hold on a moment – get the deer’s scent, fix it in your mind. Shut your eyes if you have to. We’ll catch up with the pack in a minute. Now, find the scent._

Lee shut his eyes obediently, despite feeling a thrice-damned fool at being instructed by a slip of a girl. He let his newly acute nose wander through the woodland, until he homed in on the deer’s musk.

_Got it,_ he muttered.

_Good,_ said Lyra. _Right, now try to follow it. Which direction does it lead off in? Don’t bother trying to follow Nose-scar and the pack, where do_ you _think we should go? Straight ahead? A little to the left?_

_To the right a bit,_ Lee answered, opening his eyes. _It’s strongest that way._

_Then let’s go!_

Lyra took off like a rocket, Pantalaimon at her heels. Lee grinned inwardly and followed at a slightly more sedate pace. But only slightly.

Lee had managed to choose the direction the pack were headed in, and it didn’t take long for himself and Lyra to find them, flowing like quicksilver through the woodland. And it wasn’t long after that they heard the sound of hoofbeats pounding the forest floor.

_The pack has been trailing this deer herd for a few days,_ Lyra explained to him. _To pick a likely target. Rattail and Nose-scar will have a deer in mind by now, and they’re all going to help bring it down._

_Will they need help?_ Lee asked.

_Not usually. I watch, most of the time. You don’t mind blood, do you, Mr Scoresby? It can get a bit… messy._

_Lyra, I’ve seen blood a-plenty and some of it my own. Don’t worry about me. Let’s speed up and see how they’re getting on._

Odd, but he could _feel_ Lyra’s approval somehow. They put on a fresh burst of speed and found themselves running alongside Nose-scar, Quill and Towser, as well as the young male who had guided Lee.

+ _The other wolves have gone to separate a deer from the herd,_ Lyra explained. _They’ll drive it in this direction if they can, and it will be up to these four to ambush it and bring it down. They don’t always manage it, but they’ll try._

Lee felt her excitement rising. The wild wolves were engrossed in the trap they were setting, their focus as strong and enhanced as any newly whetted knife. Without any apparent signals they spread themselves out as they jogged along, ears twitching for the faintest sound their prey made, a living, deadly net.

The deer came at them, a massive animal, or so it appeared to Lee. It was a buck, judging by its size, as it had shed its antlers as winter receded. He’d always thought of deer as skittish, almost delicate creatures, but now, seeing it running full tilt towards them, its bulk streamlined into a living battering ram, its hooves sharp-edged, its legs muscled and probably able to cripple a wolf with a kick, Lee saw it anew, all its wild power and courage flaring. How could the wolves possibly hope to bring it down?

Even as he thought this, from his and Lyra’s vantage point behind the ambush, he saw Nose-scar gather his strength and leap upwards, his pounce perfectly timed. The lead wolf collided with the deer and his jaws closed on the buck’s throat.

The other wolves sprang.

Quill went for the deer’s muzzle, Towser and Lee’s tracker for the flanks. All of them got a firm hold on the deer’s hide and ripped open deep wounds, the copper tang of blood tainting the night air.

The deer tried to bellow in pain, but its voice was muffled. Already its legs were folding, weakening as it was suffocated. It still gave battle, heaving its great body about as it tried to shake the wolves off, lashing out with its hind hooves. The wolves hung on grimly, until the young nameless wolf made the mistake of loosening his jaws as he tried to manoeuvre for a better grip.

The buck, sensing its chance, thrashed about and the young wolf went flying. The buck spun round in a circle, and Towser lost his purchase, dropping to the ground with only a mouthful of hide to show for his efforts.

The rest of the pack, led by Rattail, came charging up, and danced around their prey, looking for a chance to strike. Acorn, with more enthusiasm than sense, pounced, collided with the deer’s great haunches, and bounced off to land in a patch of vegetation. The deer continued to lash out with its hard hooves, and the wolves hung back, not willing to risk serious injury.

_They’re losing it,_ Lyra muttered, and before Lee could respond she darted into the melee, Pantalaimon following.

_Hell!_ Lee cursed, appalled about how petite Lyra appeared in comparison to the deer, certain she was going to get herself injured. He ran after her and found himself in the midst of a group of wolves who were almost raving with the thrill and fear and high stakes of the hunt.

His heart began doing gymnastics anew as he saw Lyra darting about near the deer’s flailing hooves. Pantalaimon was doing the same, and in a moment of adrenaline-fuelled clarity Lee realised she was trying to injure its back legs, to take out its most fearsome weapons. She was unable to get near enough, snapping futilely as the deer kicked.

Pantalaimon, not quite as bold as Lyra, shied back from a particularly vicious strike. Lyra, who had also retreated, collided with him – and then yelped as a hoof caught her a glancing blow on the shoulder.

Lee reacted without conscious thought. He went at the deer from the side rather than the rear, lunged and closed his jaw on the deer’s leg. He’d been aiming for its thigh, but it moved at the last possible second, and he bit down on its lower leg. He felt himself being shaken like a terrier shakes a rat and clenched his jaws. It was almost a shock to feel the bones snap and his mouth fill with blood.

The deer bellowed in pain, and sank to its knees, knowing that the struggle was ended. Rattail lunged for its throat. Her bite must have severed an artery, for within a few moments the deer lay still.

Lee let go of its leg and turned to find Lyra. She was standing beside him, eyes shining.

_That was amazing, Mr Scoresby!_ She exclaimed. _Your first hunt, too!_

_Are you all right, Lyra?_ Lee asked, not interested in praise. _Looks like you took a hard hit._

_I’m fine,_ Lyra answered, tail wagging. _Truly, I am,_ she added as Lee narrowed his eyes at her. _It did hit me hard, but I’m tough as a wolf, it takes a lot to hurt me seriously. I’ll be fine when I wake, and if I’m not I’ll heal myself. That’s another thing I’ll have to teach you…_

They were interrupted by a bark from Rattail. She and Nose-scar had torn open the deer’s belly and were already feasting. The rest of the pack were milling around, panting, eager for their share but deferring to their leaders.

_So, what now?_ Lee asked.

_Now, we eat,_ Lyra said happily. _You helped bring down the deer, so we get a share tonight. We’ll have our turn once Nose-scar and Rattail have eaten. Er – do you mind raw meat?_

_Trust me, kid, as far as I’m concerned, venison will be a delicacy – even if it is raw._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wolf hunt in this chapter is based upon information from the websites for the International Wolf Centre (www.wolf.org) and www.livingwithwolves.org (and countless BBC documentaries). I've tried to make it as accurate as possible, except that it's considerably shorter than usual. In the wild, wolf hunts can go on for hours or even days.
> 
> The wolfwalkers and their transformations are based on the beautiful film 'Wolfwalkers' (dir. Tomm Moore and Ross Stewart) and the Irish legends about werewolves the film was based on in turn (the Werewolves of Ossory).
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	8. The Pastry Chef

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after the night before, and Hester ain't happy.

They did get their share of deer meat, and either due to sheer appetite or the fact that he had a wolf’s taste and stomach, Lee found it was delicious. Lyra gobbled it down with such abandon that Lee, not easily discomfited, nearly choked on his own meal and Pantalaimon began muttering about ‘table manners.’ Lyra grumbled but ate more slowly after.

The wolves ate their fill, and afterwards lingered by the kill, some taking a quick nap and others playing, chasing after Towser who initiated the game by nipping them and running off.

As soon as the sky began to shade from purple-black to grey in the east however, Lyra began to chivvy the wolves into returning to the den. A few groused but they came along willingly enough.

_The hunters will be heading home round about now,_ she said. _It’s early for the wolves to return, but it will be safe enough, and we need to get you back to your daemon. And try and work out what’s happened._

They headed back at a gentle pace, Rattail and Nose-scar leading the way and Lee and Lyra trailing behind the pack, Lee’s tracker and Towser occasionally hanging back to check on them. Everyone was alert for hunters or other threats, but as they neared their destination, Lee’s awareness faded, and his apprehension grew. He had no idea – none at all – about how Hester would react to what had transpired, and that was deeply disturbing. He had nearly always been able to predict his daemon in everything, and now he couldn’t.

_Lyra, how do we turn back?_ He asked, trying to take his mind off the unknown, or at least dispel another unknown.

_It’s easy,_ Lyra said reassuringly. _Now we’ve had a night as wolves, all you need to do is lie on top of yourself. We kind of sink into ourselves, and then in a little while we’ll wake up and be human again._

_Simple as that, huh?_

_As simple as that._

The escarpment leading to the wolves’ den reared up before them. The wolves entered one by one, Lyra lingering to check no-one was watching. There was only a tawny owl perched in a tree, watching them through slitted eyes. Lyra ducked into the tunnel.

Lee took one last deep breath and followed.

The long dark tunnel was dark no longer, appearing only a little dimmer than the woods had been. Lee sped through, and before he’d come upon the clearing, he could hear Hester’s voice. The sound flooded him with warmth, and he had to slow down as his legs trembled with sheer relief.

‘Kid, is that you? I’m glad you’re back,’ Hester was saying. ‘Lee’s out cold, I’ve never known him sleep this deeply. Reckon something’s up with him…’

Lee entered the clearing. Hester was crouched beside someone laid out in a sleeping pack, someone motionless. She was speaking to Lyra, still a pale-furred wolf, but as Lee entered, her ears twitched, and she turned round to stare at him.

Lee had tried to rehearse what he was going to say to his daemon but had faltered every time. As it was, he didn’t need to say anything. Hester took one look at him and knew. Somehow, she saw the man he was in the wolf he’d turned into.

Joy flooded his being, so intense it was almost painful. He loped over to where Hester was sitting, rigid with shock.

_Hey, Hester,_ he said.

‘Lee,’ she whispered, her voice faint and tremulous. ‘Oh, Lee, what have they done to you?’

_Nothing bad, Hester,_ he murmured, nuzzling at her a little. _Just… unexpected._

‘Unexpected? _Unexpected?_ Death’s head on a mopstick, Lee! You’ve got a fur coat and a tail!’

_Uh, yes. We’re not sure how it happened. But Hester, I’m all right. And I’m still me. I just… I look different._

‘Different,’ Hester said flatly. ‘Different, my hind foot! You’ve been witched into a wolf! How do we turn you back?’

_I’ll turn back now that the morning’s coming, Lyra says._

‘Well, hurry it up!’

Lee reflected that it might be for the best. He stepped over to the sleeping form lying on the ground, trying not to look at himself. He’d reached his limits for toleration of the uncanny. Recalling what Lyra had said, he stepped onto the sleeping man…

His paws sank through cloth and flesh and bone as if he was suddenly no more substantial than fog. Lee felt himself descending, as if he’d stood in quicksand, until his vision winked out and all was darkness.

A moment later, it seemed, he became conscious of his left hand, which was stinging. He realised that it was because Hester was nipping at his fingers, trying to rouse him.

He sat up far too quickly, his torso and back protesting after he’d lain motionless all night. But he was quickly distracted by Hester, who leapt onto his lap and snuggled against him, rubbing her head against his chin. He brought his arms up to embrace her, chuckling as his limbs behaved exactly as he expected them to.

Lee gazed round the clearing. Some time had passed since he’d stepped back into himself. The light was the pale grey of the final hour before dawn, and the wild wolves were snoozing in various attitudes around the clearing. There was no sign of Lyra, and he guessed she was either sleeping properly or in the process of resuming being human.

There was more colour in the world now, too. Lee held up his abused hand before his face, wriggling his fingers.

‘Arms, legs, opposable thumbs. I’m back,’ he sighed. ‘Oh, Hester, what a night I’ve had! I was a wolf in the woods, and you weren’t with me.’

‘You great galoot! I’ve been here with you all night – except the important part of you skedaddled! What the hell happened?’

Lee gave her the story, as fast as he could. His struggle to wake, running after the wolfpack, the realisation of what he’d become, fleeing the hunters, becoming a hunter in turn and feasting on the deer…

‘You should’ve come right back here,’ Hester snapped when he drew to a close. ‘Running around all night like a wild thing! You could’ve been killed!’

‘Lyra and the wolves looked after me,’ he murmured, stroking her in reassurance. ‘I wanted to come back, Hester, but the hunters were out again.’

‘Hunting you.’

‘Hunting all of us – morning, Lyra.’

Lyra emerged from her sleeping place, rubbing her face and yawning, Pantalaimon draped over her shoulders as a sloth. But her eyes lit up as soon as she espied Lee.

‘Mr Scoresby!’ she exclaimed, running over.

‘Hold it right there, missy!’ Hester yelled, using Lee’s stomach to launch herself onto the ground between him and Lyra. ‘No closer!’

Lyra skidded to a halt, her face crumpling in dismay.

‘Hester!’ Lee protested, throwing off his covers and standing. ‘What’s gotten into you?’

‘She’s witched you into a wolf, that’s what’s gotten into me!’ Hester exclaimed, stamping in annoyance. ‘And now you’re telling me you’ve had hunters after you, and you expect me to just – _accept_ it?’

‘I never witched him!’ protested Lyra. ‘He just turned!’

‘Oh yeah? How about that bite you took out of him? That _was_ you, wasn’t it? What if you – infected him, somehow?’

‘I’d almost forgotten that,’ Lee muttered, recalling his first encounter with the gold-furred wolf a couple of nights ago.

‘Yeah, it was,’ Lyra admitted. ‘I didn’t mean to, but – but it _can’t_ be that! I’ve bit people before and they never turned.’

‘Maybe it’s something to do with my coming and sleeping in your den,’ Lee suggested, nudging Hester with his foot, trying to get her to back down a little. ‘Maybe this place has some kind of magic on it. It might be why your father chose to live here.’

‘Could be,’ Lyra murmured. ‘Father’s never told me if people could be turned into wolfwalkers… or how.’

‘Lee, we’d better get you back to town,’ Hester said. ‘If it is this place that’s caused this, the sooner you leave, the better.’

‘Hold your horses, Hester,’ Lee protested, as Lyra looked dismayed. ‘We’ve promised Lyra our help, remember?’

Hester hunched over, a little chastened.

‘I know we did. But Lee, we didn’t sign up to have you transformed into a… a wolfwalker. This isn’t what you are, and you didn’t agree to it.’

‘But you can’t just _leave_!’ Lyra protested, anger threaded through her words. ‘You’re our packmate now! You belong _here_!’

‘Hester, I didn’t sign on for this, you’ve got that straight,’ Lee sighed. He felt torn – caught between Hester’s dismay and Lyra’s need for protection, and his own, secret thrill at the thought of last night’s adventures and the possibility of more. ‘But leaving now isn’t the answer. What if I leave and the same thing happens tomorrow anyways? I’ll be a wolf but stuck in the middle of the city. It’d be a disaster.’

‘Goddammit,’ Hester muttered. She was unhappy, but saw the possibility, and Lee hoped that meant she was calming down a little.

‘He’s got to stay with us, now,’ Lyra protested. ‘You’ve got to learn to be a wolf, Mr Scoresby. It’d be dangerous for you to leave now.’

‘Seems to me you’re in more danger if you hang around,’ Hester muttered. ‘You’ll be hunted, Lee. The Council wants to wipe out the wolves in this forest, and now you’ve turned into one. We need to get you cured.’

‘No, we don’t!’ Lyra said, fury rising. Pantalaimon tried to interject but she carried on passionately. ‘Don’t you understand? You belong with us, now, with the pack! How can you just – just _leave_?’

‘I don’t know, because I’m not leaving,’ Lee said firmly. He decided it was time to take charge of the situation, which was rapidly getting out of hand. ‘For one thing, Hester, we promised Lyra our help and we’re going to give it to her. And another, if I have turned into one of these – these wolfwalkers, then I need teaching. There’ll be a thousand and one things I need to know to survive, and it seems to me Lyra’s the only one who can show me.’

Lyra folded her arms and nodded. Pan turned into a stoat and peered down at Hester. Lee glanced down at her. He would have scorned to beg anyone else for anything, but he hoped Hester would see the plea in his eyes.

‘All right, we’ll hang around for now,’ Hester said at last. ‘I guess Lee’s right – we promised to help you out. But no more tricks, missy.’

‘We never played any,’ Pantalaimon said. ‘We don’t know why this happened. We’ve told you that.’

‘Then let’s find out,’ Hester said, her tone making it clear this was non-negotiable. ‘And find out whether it can be cured.’

‘It’s not a disease,’ Lyra muttered, expression sullen.

‘What is it then?’ Hester retorted.

Rather to Lee’s surprise, it was Pantalaimon who answered. He leapt to the ground and nuzzled against Hester. She stiffened, tried to pull away, but Lee nudged her forward with his leg.

‘It’s magic,’ Pan said to her. ‘You’ll see that, soon. You’ll be a part of it.’

‘Not likely,’ Hester muttered, but the venom had drained from her tone. Lee heaved a discreet sigh of relief and turned back to Lyra.

‘Right, now it’s time to do what we agreed on last night – reconnaissance,’ he said. ‘We’re headed into Oxford as soon as we’ve cleaned ourselves up and eaten. I’ll get breakfast. You go and wash your face.’

‘Why?’ Lyra demanded, unfolding her arms and placing her hands on her hips. Lee fought down a befuddled desire to laugh at her indignation.

‘Because you’re as filthy as an unwashed potato,’ Lee retorted. ‘We’ve got to blend in when we go back, and you’re not going to manage it looking like I just dug you out of the ground. Go and scrub!’

Lyra turned and headed for the spring, muttering wrathfully. Lee shook his head, and glanced down at Hester, who was looking at him with an expression that could have withered a ripe pomegranate.

‘What?’ Lee asked.

‘Getting the kid to wash up before breakfast? You sound like an old woman,’ Hester informed him gleefully.

‘What? I do not! You take that back!’

###

Breakfast was a tense affair. Hester, deeply unhappy with what had transpired, huddled close to Lee and rebuffed attempts at conversation, though she didn’t offer any more reproaches. He longed to comfort her but was uncertain how, an agonising new sensation. Eventually, Hester left him and Lyra to it and went to curl up inside his coat.

Lyra was subdued, her obvious delight in having another wolfwalker around tempered by Hester’s hostility. Pantalaimon stayed close to her, though he kept his eyes on Hester.

Lee ate swiftly, and when finished, asked Lyra if he could take a look at her father’s research notes.

‘What for?’ Lyra asked, a tad suspicious. ‘You’re not looking for a cure already, are you?’

‘Well, I was hoping to find out something about why this happened to me,’ Lee said reasonably. ‘Let’s take this one step at a time.’

Lyra evidently thought this was sensible, for she led Lee over to her father’s shelter with no hesitation. A quick rummage through his books and journals didn’t uncover anything useful, however. There was a great deal of material on experimental theology that might as well have been written in Roman for all Lee understood it, much of it centred on something called the Barnard-Stokes hypothesis. There were maps and charts that Lee could comprehend, nearly all of them mapping the North. There were a few tomes on wolves, their diet, preferred habitats and so forth.

‘Nothing on wolfwalkers,’ Lee sighed after a bit. ‘I guess he didn’t want to take the risk of writing it down.’

‘He never told me much, neither. At least, not about how wolfwalkers are made, or even if they can be made,’ Lyra sighed. Lee raised a quizzical eyebrow.

‘How’d he expect you to cope with being a wolfwalker if he didn’t tell you what’s involved?’ he asked.

‘I suppose he thought he’d be here to help,’ Lyra shrugged. Lee bit back a tart response and steered her out of the small cave, seeing no reason to linger.

Lyra left instructions with Rattail and Nose-scar to stay hidden and keep quiet, and they crawled through the tunnel to begin their journey to Oxford. The day was cool but clear, and the walk was a pleasant one. Soon, the fields and hedgerows began to be replaced by houses and shops.

‘You’ve speeded up, Lee,’ Hester remarked as they walked.

‘You’ll be faster now you’re – one of us,’ Lyra muttered, casting a suspicious glance at a couple of passers-by. ‘You’ll be stronger, too.’

‘Hmm,’ said Hester. ‘Lee, I think we should call on Iorek. See if he can shed any light on what’s occurring here.’

Lee glanced down at his daemon. Her tone was worryingly neutral, but her answering look was full of good, old-fashioned Hester exasperation.

‘What, you got any better ideas?’ she enquired, and he grinned. ‘Besides, he’s the one searching for a wolfwalker. Might as well update him on what’s happened.’

‘Might as well,’ Lee agreed. ‘Lyra, fancy meeting my friend Iorek?’

Her eyes glowed, and Pantalaimon turned into a sparrow again, cheeping with excitement.

However, when they got to Iorek’s forge, it was empty, and there was no sign of Iorek in the vicinity. The police officer watching the forge was nowhere to be seen either. Lee had a quick word with a nearby butcher, the one supplying Iorek with meat, and the man informed him the great bear had been approached by some Gyptians early that morning and departed with them after a few minutes conversation. No, he had no idea when the bear would return.

‘We’ll check back later,’ Lee reassured Hester and Lyra, who for once were united in disappointment. ‘Let’s head over to Jordan and see if we can’t find out where your father is being held. We need to come up with an idea about how to do it, too. Shall I do the whole courier disguise again?’

‘Not with all those security guards hanging round, you’d get rumbled within five minutes,’ Hester pointed out. ‘But didn’t Lyra say she’s got plenty of friends in Jordan?’

‘Yeah,’ Lyra said. ‘Specially Roger. I bet he’d spy for us if I asked him to.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ Lee said, concerned. ‘We’re dealing with dangerous people here. I don’t think sending a – your friend to spy is the best idea.’

Lee only just stopped himself from saying ‘a child.’ He had the feeling Lyra would take exception, and besides, it would be doing both her and her friend a disservice. Lee knew plenty of so-called grown-ups who would have folded like paper when confronted with Lyra’s predicament.

‘Someone else then,’ Lyra murmured. ‘The Master won’t be able to tell us anything, I bet the guards are watching him too…’

‘Know any servants?’ Lee asked. ‘They’ll know everything that goes on in Jordan, I bet.’

‘What about Bernie, the pastry chef?’ Pantalaimon asked. ‘He was always kind to us, I bet he’d tell whatever he knows. You know he always seems to know what’s happening in Jordan.’

‘Hmm,’ said Lee, marginally happier with recruiting a grown man to their mission. ‘Is he good at keeping secrets? We can’t afford to get found out.’

‘He’ll keep quiet, I’m sure,’ Lyra reassured him. ‘He’s kept quiet about things for me before now.’

‘Might’ve been better if he hadn’t,’ Pan muttered. ‘Remember the starling? We were banned from the kitchens for a whole year!’

‘That wasn’t Bernie’s fault! The head cook’s a fool, anyone could’ve seen it was a starling except him –’

‘Uh, Lyra? If we could get back to the subject at hand?’ Lee interrupted. Hester snickered, and Lyra and Pan subsided. ‘Let’s go and have a talk with this Bernie, if you think he can be trusted to keep his mouth shut about seeing you. We don’t want some well-meaning person prying into your affairs and deciding to ship you off to an orphanage.’

Lee sighed, suddenly feeling the load of the responsibility he’d taken on like a suit of old-fashioned chainmail, weighing him down. Until they rescued Lord Asriel, he was all this girl had – she’d never survive living among humans. What the hell had he been thinking, taking on Lyra and her missing father? He should deliver her back to Jordan, or to someone who could take proper care of her, only there _was_ no-one else. Only him.

Lyra, mistaking the reason for his sudden gloom, reached up and threaded her arm through his.

‘Don’t worry,’ she told him. ‘Bernie won’t snitch on us, and even if he did, we’ve got the forest to hide in. We’re pack now. We’ll stick together.’

‘I guess we will,’ Lee murmured, managing to summon a smile before Lyra began tugging him in the direction of Jordan College.

###

Getting into the college unnoticed was as easy as pie, despite the Magisterium guards. Probably because no-one thought it worthwhile guarding the kitchen, which was to their advantage.

Lyra led Lee and Hester to a small door set into one of the walls bordering a narrow lane with few pedestrians. When the coast was clear, they slipped inside and found themselves in a yard filled with odds and ends from the kitchens – barrels, crates, old rusty saucepans, even a disused oven. 

Lyra ducked behind one of the largest piles of junk, which was concealing a tiny passageway. Lee wasn’t an especially broad man, but he had to enter sideways and edge along like a crab.

Luckily, it was a short passage and ended in another, unlocked door. They slipped through and Lee found himself in a small room, unfurnished and lit only by the light peeping in at the window. Another, larger door was set in the opposite wall and he heard the clatter and clamour of utensils, roaring ovens and raised voices.

Lyra crept across the room and gingerly opened the door. Pantalaimon turned himself into a mouse and crept through into the kitchen.

Lee found he was holding his breath. Pantalaimon wouldn’t be able to go far, not without causing Lyra unbearable pain. He felt Hester pressing against his leg, sharing his tension, and bent to touch her head and comfort her.

The suspense didn’t last. Pantalaimon scampered back into the room a moment later.

‘He’s on his way,’ he whispered to Lyra. ‘I spoke to Rasmus – Bernie’s daemon. He says to wait here and not to make any noise.’

Lyra bent to scoop him up and place him on her shoulder. They waited in silence for a few more minutes, until the door opened again and a short, stocky man, his red squirrel daemon clinging to his belt, squeezed himself through. He turned round and stopped dead when he saw Lee.

‘Morning,’ Lee winked.

‘Who’re you?’ the man whispered. Lee eyed him. He was muscular, especially in the arms, but he looked nervous and his daemon was a-quiver. No, he was no fighter, this one. But he wasn’t running away either.

‘It’s all right, Bernie,’ Lyra murmured. ‘This is my friend, Mr Scoresby. He’s been looking after me.’

Lee held out a hand. Bernie hesitated, jumpy as a trapped rabbit, but then reached over and shook it. Lee noticed his grip was firm.

‘Lyra,’ Bernie said very quietly. ‘I’m glad to see you. Everyone’s been worried since you left, we thought you’d have sent word to Roger at least.’

‘Sorry,’ Lyra mumbled. ‘I couldn’t. It would take too long to explain why, but it was important. And now _this_ is important. We need you to find something out for us.’

‘What’s that?’ Bernie asked, eyes flicking to the closed door. His daemon jumped down and stationed itself by the wooden panels, listening for eavesdroppers or anyone coming.

‘We think there’s a wolf being experimented on somewhere in this college, and we need to know where,’ Lee answered. ‘It’s crucial we learn this.’

‘Why?’ Bernie quizzed. Lee tilted his head.

‘To be honest, Mr…?’

‘Johansen.’

‘Mr Johansen, it would take too long to explain why, and if we did, you’d think we’d gone stark raving mad,’ Lee said frankly. ‘You’ll just have to take our word for it.’

‘Please, Bernie,’ Lyra added, and although there was no plea in her voice, it clearly made Bernie’s mind up for him.

‘The wolf’s being held in the basement of the Sheldon Building,’ he said. ‘I know because we’ve been sending raw meat over there for a week now. Great big chunks of it… and it’s been howling like a night-ghast since they brought it. Oh, they’ve tried to soundproof the room, but we can still hear it. It’s frightening everyone…and those Magisterium guards aren’t helping.’

‘How many guards are there?’ Lee enquired.

‘I’m not sure,’ Bernie answered, looking lost. ‘There’s always two on duty outside the building, though. And Dr Van Buskirk always has one following him around college – we think his latest bit of research upset someone important.’

‘And the Master’s just _allowing_ this?’ Lyra demanded, outraged.

‘We don’t think he’s got much choice, Lyra,’ Bernie whispered, eyes travelling round the little room as if he thought the guards might be hidden inside the walls, listening to their furtive conversation. ‘There’s a woman – a beautiful woman…’

‘Mrs Coulter. Working with the Council,’ Lee said with surety. Bernie nodded.

‘Yes. I overheard the Steward talking to Mrs Lonsdale – the Master was furious about the guards, wanted to throw all of them out. But this Mrs Coulter, she went to his office, and spoke to him. Whatever she said, it must’ve spooked him, ‘cause he’s not raised a finger against them. Lets them do whatever.’

Lee and Lyra exchanged glances.

‘Thank you, Bernie,’ Lyra said. ‘You’ve been a big help.’

‘Wait – there’s one more thing,’ Bernie said, as Lyra began to turn away. She stopped and waited. Bernie twisted his hands in the floury apron he was wearing.

‘This Mrs Coulter, she’s up to something,’ Bernie mumbled, looking nervier than ever. ‘I was taking some pastries up to the Retiring Room this morning, when I overheard her and Dr Van Buskirk in there, arguing. She’s doing something she’s not meant to – I’m not sure who she’s working for, but she’s planning on moving that beast somewhere, in two days’ time. She’s going to transport it by boat, along the White Horse River.’

‘Through the forest?’ Lyra exclaimed. ‘But only Gyptians can sail those waters, I remember you telling me. Anyone else gets their boat wrecked, or they drown.’

‘And I think she’s going to use the Gyptians to do it,’ Bernie said. ‘Look, Lyra, you don’t know this, but my mother was a Gyptian. I’m still close to the Western Gyptians. And they’re in uproar at the moment – two of them have gone missing. Been gone for three days now. Remember Tony Costa? He’s one of them.’

‘And you think Mrs Coulter has a hand in their disappearance?’ Lee quizzed.

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Bernie. ‘I’m only telling you what I’ve overheard or been told. But I know Mrs Coulter was saying something about “leverage” with the Gyptians, before she realised, I was there. And it’s not like Tony to take off without a word. He’s got too much respect for Ma Costa to do that.’

Lyra nodded thoughtfully. There was a yell from inside the kitchen and Bernie looked fearfully over his shoulder.

‘I’ve got to get back to work, Lyra,’ he said. ‘You take care now, you hear?’

‘I will,’ Lyra answered and darted forward to hug him quickly. ‘Bernie, you can’t tell no-one we’ve been here. Not even Roger. It’s dangerous.’

‘Right you are,’ Bernie sighed, before fixing Lee with a gimlet-eyed glare. ‘And you, Mr Scoresby, whoever you are – you’d better take care of her, or you’ll have me to answer to.’

Lee tipped his hat.

‘That I can promise,’ he answered. ‘Thanks for the information.’

Bernie glared at him one last time, and then opened the door and went back to the kitchen, his daemon scurrying ahead. Lyra watched him go, rather sadly. Pantalaimon turned himself into a cat and twined round her ankles.

‘Come on,’ Lee said quietly, tapping her on the shoulder. ‘Let’s get out of here and decide what’s next.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bernie Johansen - Allen Leech
> 
> I've re-read my copy of 'His Dark Materials' and researched it online, but I was unable to find any information about what Bernie's daemon settled as. I've always imagined him as quite a shy individual, hence my choice of a red squirrel.
> 
> Confession time... one of the principle reasons I began this story was that I wanted to explore what conflict between Lee and Hester might look like. When the TV series commenced, I watched an interesting interview with Lin-Manual Miranda who said that Lee knows exactly who he is. Given the closeness between Lee and Hester, I thought this was accurate. Now, all of a sudden, Lee doesn't know precisely who or what he is, and his struggles are being expressed through Hester. She's got her own reasons for being unhappy about what's occurred... but you'll have to read on to find out what they are.
> 
> Till next time, dear readers!


	9. The Royal Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee and Lyra do some reconnaissance, and Lee and Hester have a painful conversation.

They retreated to Iorek’s forge. The bear still hadn’t returned, so they waited in the shed, eating the meat pies purchased from a baker’s, and comparing notes.

‘So, Mrs Coulter’s planning to move your pa somewhere,’ Lee mused in-between bites. ‘Two days, Bernie said. Whatever we do, we’ve got to do it fast.’

‘We need to break him out of there,’ Lyra snarled, her fingers curling into a fist and squashing her pie into crumbs.

‘Easier said than done, kid,’ Lee said carefully. ‘He’s under heavy guard, and Mrs Coulter won’t be taking any chances with security. We need more time to rescue him. We need to stop her taking him out of there.’

He paused to take a bite of his pie, chewing thoughtfully. Lyra licked the pieces of her pie off her hand. Lee rolled his eyes and handed over one of his new handkerchiefs.

‘I wonder if this Mrs Coulter is doing this on the Council’s say-so,’ he mused out loud. ‘They’re the ones funding the big wolf hunt, after all. They’ve probably got plans for your father.’

‘Course she’s doing it without the Council knowing,’ Lyra said matter-of-factly as she cleaned her fingers. ‘Otherwise she’d just send him by zeppelin or barge or something. She’s using the Gyptians so’s she can keep it as secret as possible.’

Lee blinked. Why hadn’t he thought of that? You wanted fast, efficient delivery: you went with a courier. You wanted something kept secret, kept hidden, you spoke to a Gyptian.

‘Which means she won’t have Magisterium or Council security, unless she’s managed to bribe or threaten them,’ Lee murmured, a wild notion beginning to unfurl itself in his mind.

‘Lee, why do I get the feeling you’re about to do something stupid?’ Hester enquired with practised weariness.

‘Because I probably am,’ Lee admitted. ‘Lyra, I think we need to find out where this Mrs Coulter is staying and do some investigating.’

Lyra grinned at the prospect.

‘But what about speaking to Iorek?’ Hester piped up.

‘I think it’ll have to wait,’ Lee admitted, finishing his pie and standing up, brushing off the crumbs. ‘We don’t know when he’s coming back, and we’re in a hurry. We’ll try again tomorrow.’

‘So, what now?’ asked Pantalaimon, turning into a Bloodhound.

‘We need to find out where this Mrs Coulter is staying,’ Lyra said thoughtfully. ‘Which will be difficult – unless…’

‘Unless?’ Lee prompted.

‘We could just ask,’ Lyra suggested. ‘Ask Dr Van Buskirk. I bet he knows.’

###

Dr Julian Van Buskirk was in the habit of taking his meals at a small café near Bodley’s Library. Lyra pointed him out through one of the lattice windows, before making herself scarce.

Lee and Hester scrutinised the café’s clientele carefully but didn’t spot anyone who might be working for the Magisterium. They were presumably only worried about Van Buskirk’s activities in Jordan, not outside. Foolish, but it was to Lee and Lyra’s advantage.

Lee entered the café and made a beeline for Dr Van Buskirk. He was younger than Lee had expected, perhaps in his late thirties or very early forties, a handsome man with dark skin and black hair. He was sitting alone, over a cup of tea and a sandwich that he was brooding over rather than eating, his daemon perched on the back of his chair. She was a barn owl, beautiful and ethereal, her fathomless eyes narrowed to slits as she observed Lee’s approach.

‘Dr Van Buskirk?’ Lee asked needlessly. The man looked up, eyes widening in surprise as he saw who was addressing him. Lee sat down without being asked and leaned over the table to avoid being overheard.

‘My name’s Scoresby,’ he said in low tones. ‘I’ll keep this quick, doctor – I understand you’re being forced to work with a woman named Coulter.’

The good doctor’s face hardened. His daemon shuffled on her perch, feathers fluffing up in anger.

‘If you’re here to relay more threats –’ he said, accompanying the words with a glare that must have quelled even the most rambunctious under-scholar. 

‘Just the opposite,’ Lee broke in, before the doctor could attract attention. ‘I’m no friend to Mrs Coulter, or the Council. In fact, I am diametrically opposed to whatever they’ve got in mind for the wolves in the forest.’

Van Buskirk subsided, though he rested his clenched fists atop the table in clear warning.

‘And what have you to do with the wolves in the forest?’ he asked bluntly. ‘You’re a Texan, judging from your accent. You’re rather a long way from home. And you’re no scholar.’

‘How’d you know?’ Lee enquired. Van Buskirk offered the merest hint of a smile.

‘You didn’t introduce yourself as _doctor_ , or professor. Scholars aren’t usually that coy about their credentials.’

‘Hmm, not bad,’ muttered Hester.

‘You’re right there,’ Lee answered, his own smile a little wider than Van Buskirk’s. ‘Look, Dr Van Buskirk, it would take too long for me to explain why I’m interested in the wolves, and you probably wouldn’t believe me if I did. But suffice it to say I have a vested interest in protecting them.’

Lee felt Hester tremble where she was pressed against his ankle. He reached down to touch her, reassure her, and was reassured in turn when she nuzzled against his fingers.

Dr Van Buskirk watched him, then leaned backwards to listen as his daemon whispered in his ear. He turned back to Lee.

‘What do you want from me?’ he asked.

‘Tell me where Mrs Coulter is staying,’ Lee answered. ‘And then keep your head down and do what she tells you for the time being, till you have a shot at getting clear without too much danger.’

‘She’s stopping at the Royal Hotel on Flood Street,’ Van Buskirk answered at once. ‘Top floor. I’m not sure for how long.’ He paused, eying the holster at Lee’s hip, revealed by his open coat.

‘You look well prepared, but – Mr Scoresby, is it? Mr Scoresby, be _very_ careful. She’s a dangerous woman, and that daemon of hers is a menace.’

‘I will. Thank you, Dr Van Buskirk,’ Lee said, as he rose from the table. He was halted by Van Buskirk’s hand on his arm. The man’s antagonism had faded, and he looked harassed, and more than a little nervous.

‘Wait – if I need to – to talk to you again, how do I find you?’ Van Buskirk blurted. Lee smiled gently as he disengaged his arm.

‘You should leave a message with the armoured bear who’s taken up residence here,’ Lee informed him, rather enjoying the awed expression this generated. ‘He’ll find me sooner or later.’

He nodded farewell and strode out of the café, aware Van Buskirk was watching him leave, but not at all apprehensive that he was doing so.

‘What do you think of him?’ he asked Hester as soon as they were outside.

‘Seems like a decent sort, as far as I can judge in five minutes,’ Hester answered. ‘I don’t think he signed on for this. Kinda like us.’

‘Well, he’s up to his eyeballs in it – also like us,’ Lee answered, and Hester’s ears drooped. ‘Hey, Hester, don’t take it so hard. We’ll get through this. You and me, remember?’

‘If you say so,’ Hester murmured. ‘Not to mention your wolf-girl, Lee.’

‘Yeah, let’s go find her and get moving,’ Lee said. ‘We’ve got a visit to pay.’

###

Lyra found them, as it turned out. She dropped down from the wall where she’d perched with Pantalaimon and fell into step beside them with ease. And she knew the Royal Hotel well, having done battle with the younger hotel porters there more than once.

‘They said I was a wimp who spent all her time waiting on the scholars,’ Lyra grinned as they made their way to the hotel. ‘I made them pay! Me and Roger pretended to run to the canal, only once they chased us there our friends pushed them in! They had to go back to work with their fancy uniforms dripping and covered in weed.’

Lee chuckled.

‘Anyone ever tell you you’re a barbarian, Lyra?’ he asked affectionately.

‘Lots of people,’ she said proudly. Even Hester sniggered at _that_.

The Royal Hotel was located in central Oxford, and was an elegant building ornamented with white stucco, statues and flags wherever a flag could be hung from. It was crammed with guests in business suits and chic dresses, porters bearing luggage, messenger boys, hotel staff and hangers-on, trying to flog cheap trinkets to tourists or serve as impromptu tour guides.

Lee regarded it dubiously. There was no way he’d be able to go unnoticed in that kind of environment, especially if he had to make it all the way to the top floor.

He expressed this thought to Lyra, who surveyed the hotel coolly.

‘I think I can get in there,’ she said. ‘If I only had the key to Mrs Coulter’s room. Get me that, and I’ll go in and look for something useful.’

‘What? No way am I sending you in!’ Lee protested, appalled by the suggestion. ‘If you get caught, then –’

‘Then I’ll claim I was there because one of the porters dared me,’ Lyra said, smirking as she began to plan her raid. ‘I’ll pretend to be a stupid kid and make a break for it when I can.’

‘And if you can’t?’

‘You’ll come and get me,’ Lyra said with the airy unconcern that made Lee want to shake her until her teeth rattled. ‘Look, I can get in there. I know how to get to the top floor without anyone seeing me. I just need the room key – and to know what room she’s staying in. You keep watch in case Mrs Coulter’s coming back and stall her for a bit.’

Lee scowled, not at all happy with this far-too-vague plan.

‘We’ve not got many options here, Lee,’ Hester pointed out. ‘Not if you want to take action in the near future.’

‘I don’t like it,’ Lee muttered, glaring at the impenetrable hotel. ‘I’m supposed to be looking after you here, not sending you into the snake pit.’

‘We’re pack – we look after each other,’ Lyra said firmly. ‘Let me do this, Mr Scoresby. You’ve done enough already.’

Lee sighed. He wished there was another method available to them, but he knew Lyra would brook no delay. At least this way, he could keep an eye on her.

‘You promise you’ll skedaddle at the first sign of trouble, even if you haven’t found anything? Say the words, Lyra.’

‘I promise,’ Lyra said, pouting a little.

‘Right, come on then. First of all, I’ll ask for Mrs Coulter at the front desk, make sure she’s out. I’ll try and sneak a look at their guest book, see where she’s staying. About the key...’

‘The housekeeper will have a master key,’ Hester suggested. ‘Not sure how you’ll get your hands on it, though.’

Lyra’s eyes lit up.

‘I can manage that,’ she said. ‘I just need a few dollars. One of the porters has a lady friend who likes expensive things. He’s always on the lookout for extra money. He’ll slip me the key if I pay.’

‘Not sure I should be encouraging this kind of behaviour,’ Lee muttered, but he handed over five golden dollars, nonetheless. ‘Okay, Lyra, wait out here until I find out what room Coulter is in and if she’s out.’

Lyra nodded. Lee crossed his fingers and strode over to the hotel entrance.

‘Here we go,’ he muttered to Hester.

‘Don’t make too much noise. Keep as inconspicuous as possible,’ she advised him. ‘And Lee? Don’t worry too much about Lyra. I have a feeling she can handle it.’

###

Mrs Coulter was out and would not return before dinner, the concierge sniffed, before acidly advising Lee that the tradesman’s entrance would be more appropriate for him to use in future. Even his poodle daemon had its nose in the air. Lee took a great deal of pleasure in accidentally-on-purpose knocking a vase of flowers over and sending water cascading over the snob’s impeccable uniform.

While the concierge was having an apoplectic fit over the damage done to his starched shirt, Lee grabbed the hotel guest book from its position behind the desk and found Mrs Coulter’s room number – thirty-six. He replaced the book, bid the hysterical man a gleeful farewell and departed.

He found Lyra and relayed the information, and then watched with trepidation as she set off for the rear of the hotel, presumably to find the avaricious porter. He selected a nice alley, which would allow him to keep watch over the entrance and settled down to wait. Though perhaps _settled_ was the wrong word.

‘You’re jumpy as a frog on hot coals,’ Hester said after fifteen minutes of watching Lee fidget. ‘You’re getting awfully attached to Lyra, considering she’s turned you into a wolf.’

‘We don’t know it was her,’ Lee muttered. ‘Or do you think she’s lying about knowing how to make more wolfwalkers?’

‘No,’ Hester admitted, rather ungraciously. ‘She’s a good liar, I can tell, but I don’t think she’s lying about that. And her daemon’s straightforward enough. But I don’t get why you’re not angrier about this. You’ve been turned into something unnatural. Not to mention becoming a target for every idiot with a gun between here and the White Sea.’

‘So, what else is new?’ Lee snarked. ‘Plenty of men have wanted me dead. Some still do. And besides, whatever this is… it doesn’t feel unnatural. It feels…strange. Weird. But not as if it’s wrong.’

Hester stared at him, her great golden eyes unblinking.

‘You _like_ it,’ she said. It was an accusation.

‘I –’ Lee began, forming a denial. It was a reflex action, intended to appease and he checked himself. He’d never been anything other than honest with Hester, no matter how painful it was.

‘Yes,’ he told her at last. ‘Yes, I liked it. Everything about it. The speed, how strong I was, running with the pack. The hunt. Everything – except that you weren’t with me. That cut me deep, Hester. I wasn’t right, I wasn’t _whole_ , until I got back to you. Wolf or man, I want you near me.’

Hester didn’t respond at once, instead staring across the street towards the Royal Hotel. Lee resumed his watch, feeling the silence as though it were a guillotine about to descend between them. The seconds fell and accumulated. One minute, two, five…

‘This isn’t you, though, Lee,’ Hester said. Lee jumped.

‘I mean, I don’t think I know you anymore,’ Hester continued, turning her back on him and Lee’s heart broke – a tiny little crack, no thicker than a pencil line, indiscernible to anyone but himself. ‘You’re a man, not an animal. The Lee I know would never have left me behind or gone running through the woods all night without a thought for me. That’s what a beast does. Not a man.’

‘I’m still your Lee, Hester,’ he said, voice quiet and uninflected, lowering his head so his hat brim would shield his face from onlookers. ‘I never meant to leave you behind. I just assumed you were with me. And I thought about you. Every moment last night, all though the running and the hunting. Every moment, hoping you were all right and not afraid.’

‘Words, words. How little they mean, when they come too late,’ Hester sing-songed. It was only then that she turned round and caught sight of Lee’s face.

‘Lee –’ she began, ears flat along her back in contrition.

‘Mr Scoresby!’

Lyra came running up behind him, face flushed and her expression triumphant, Pantalaimon running alongside her as a stoat. Lee spun round, arranging his face and mastering his anguish, to greet her.

‘Lyra!’ he exclaimed. ‘You all right?’

‘Absolutely fine,’ she beamed. ‘And I have _lots_ to tell you!’

‘Great, but not here. Come on, let’s get back to the den before it gets too late. We’ll grab dinner on the way.’

Lee led the way out of the alley, Hester loping alongside, trying vainly to catch his eye. But he didn’t look at her once, not for the entire journey back to the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the angst ratchets up a notch... will it get better soon? I'm not going to say, because I'm cruel like that. 
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	10. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night draws on, and the wolfwalkers embark on a rescue mission.
> 
> Warning: bad language and violence in this chapter.

What hath night to do with sleep?

John Milton, from 'Comus' 

‘The laundry chute,’ Lyra explained once they were safely ensconced in the wolves’ den and had taken the edge off their hunger with fruit and beef sandwiches. ‘The staff use it all the time – well, those that can fit. It’s great for making a quick getaway, or if you need to sneak in somewhere. I scaled it up to the top floor and got into the suite that way.’

Lee laughed, impressed.

‘And here was me thinking you might get caught,’ he smiled.

‘Not me,’ Lyra answered. ‘I got into the suite no problem. The tricky part was trying to find something useful. I wasn’t sure what to look for. So, I just rooted through papers and things. Most of it was dull. Lots of research papers and hotel bills. But I did find one thing.’

She extracted a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Lee. He smoothed it over his knee and examined it. The paper was a receipt for the renting of a house.

‘The house is on Gooding Street,’ Lyra explained. ‘I know that area, and it’s all derelict. There used to be a chemical factory there, years ago, but there was a big fire, and everyone had to move away. It’s been abandoned since I can remember. I didn’t go there much – a few dodgy people hang round there.’

‘So, Mrs Coulter is renting a house in an abandoned neighbourhood,’ Lee mused. ‘Not many neighbours to spy or overhear things, and those that do won’t give a damn. Sounds worth checking out.’

‘Tonight!’ Lyra stated eagerly. ‘We can go as wolves.’

Lee felt Hester’s warmth against his leg, knew she was trying to draw his attention, but he was wounded and angry and ignored her.

‘You think I’ll turn again tonight?’ he asked. Lyra nodded.

‘We’ll be safer as wolves around there,’ she said. ‘A man and a girl would attract attention, but wolves… we can stick to the shadows, and even if someone sees us, they’ll probably think we’re dogs or something.’

Lee nodded, seeing the wisdom in this.

‘Will the pack be okay without you?’ he asked, half-hoping to persuade Lyra to remain behind.

‘They’ll be fine,’ Lyra nodded. ‘They won’t bother hunting tonight, not after that deer yesterday. They’ll stay close to home and hide from the hunters.’

‘I guess we’ve got a plan then,’ Lee remarked. ‘Let’s get some dinner and then bed down. Busy night ahead.’

He managed to get through the rest of dinner and cleaning up without having to address Hester more than was strictly necessary. But when he had unrolled the sleeping pack and climbed in, she jumped up onto this chest and nestled there, as she always had done.

Lee raised his hand, intending to – what? Stroke her? Push her away? His hand hovered, until at last he lowered it onto his beloved daemon, and let his palm cover her. They lay like that for a long moment, Hester trembling a little, Lee rigid with tension.

‘Lee – what I said this afternoon –’ Hester began.

‘You made yourself clear,’ Lee muttered. ‘I’m a beast. A beast who feels nothing toward you. Thanks a bunch, Hester.’

He turned his face away from her, seething with fury and melancholy. Self-pity rose up in him, but he forced it away ruthlessly. He’d always loathed people who felt sorry for themselves, and he wasn’t about to give into the useless emotion. But the pain, the unbearable pain of having the other half of your heart despise you –

Hester nibbled at his chin.

‘Lee, you’re not a beast,’ she murmured. ‘I was hurt, and I was mad, and there was you, running through the woods and having a rare old time without me…’

‘Missing you like crazy,’ he muttered. ‘Like someone had punched a hole in my chest and taken my heart from me. You had no damn right to accuse me of anything else, Hester. No right at all.’

He felt her quiver.

‘Lee… I never thought I could abide to be away from you for an instant. But now I’ve spent a night away from you, from the most important part of you, and I _hated_ it. You had the pack, you had Lyra, but I was on my own. I never want to go through that ever again.’

‘Then don’t,’ Lee retorted, finally turning to face her. ‘Come with us tonight.’

‘You want me out there with you?’

‘Hester, don’t be a jackass. That’s my job.’

They lay in uncomfortable silence for few minutes.

‘You think you’re going to turn into a wolf again?’ Hester asked.

‘I’m not sure. Probably.’

‘Is this gonna be a permanent arrangement? A man when you’re awake, a wolf when you’re asleep?’

‘Now we’re in unchartered territory. I have no idea, Hester. All I know is, I can’t do any of this unless you’re with me. So, if you’re not, tell me now and then put me out of my misery.’

Hester pressed her proud self against him, as soft and needy as a leveret.

‘I’m with you, Lee,’ she whispered. ‘Tonight, and all the nights after. You need me to look after you, and don’t you forget it.’

‘I never could,’ he whispered back, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. Sleep was creeping up on him like cobwebs in an abandoned house, little by little, light and delicate but strong, so strong…

‘Hester, don’t go…’

Lee felt himself dragged into slumber. And it seemed only a moment later that he felt himself pulling free of the weight of his human body. It was easier this time, one strong tug and he was changed, standing in the den on four legs, regarding a wide-eyed, wild-eyed daemon who was sitting atop his sleeping form.

‘My stars and garters,’ she murmured. ‘That was a sight worth seeing!’

_What was it like?_ Lee asked curiously.

‘It was like… the outline of a wolf. A drawing in the air, made out of golden thread. Rising out of you, and then it solidified, and here you are. I think it’s you. Those eyes are darn familiar.’

Lee nuzzled at Hester, and his daemon batted at him with her strong front legs but didn’t try to push him away.

_Mr Scoresby! It’s happened again!_

Lyra came bounding out of her sleeping area in wolf-form, Pantalaimon running alongside her as a fox. The wolf-girl was obviously delighted, though she paused when she saw Hester watching.

‘Relax, kid,’ Hester said gruffly. ‘I’m not going to tell you off tonight. I’m coming with you all on this crazy scouting mission and trying to keep you all from doing anything too stupid.’

Lyra didn’t respond, but her entire demeanour changed. Her ears perked up and her jaws opened in a grin. Pantalaimon turned himself into a hare and cavorted around Lyra, before jumping onto Lee’s sleeping form and snuggling against Hester.

‘Show-off,’ Hester grumbled. But Lee could tell she didn’t mind.

_Let’s get this show on the road,_ Lee said. _Lyra, you’ll have to lead the way. Let’s cut across country if we can – avoid the built-up areas._

 _No problem, Mr Scoresby,_ Lyra answered. _Follow me!_

She sped for the tunnel, Pantalaimon still in hare shape as he ran with her. Lee took one last look around the den, the wolves watching them solemnly, his body sleeping peacefully. Then he too bolted for the exit, after Lyra. Except this time, Hester was running alongside him, through the dark tunnel and the smell of cold stone, and out into the cool, glittering, whispering night.

###

The journey was longer than the direct route back to Oxford, and made longer by the indirect route they had to take through fields, over streams and around farmsteads and hamlets, but as wolves they had speed and stamina beyond even the most athletic human. And Hester… well, she was in her element.

Lee chased after his daemon, watching her running full tilt, the slightest inclination of her shoulders or shift in her weight altering her course, so subtly and swiftly it was as if she had been transfigured into water and was flowing across the land. Pantalaimon stayed as a hare, too, and Lyra chased after him, laughing as she did so. It was almost disappointing when the country began to give way to boarded up old houses and derelict streets. 

It took a bit of searching to find 56 Gooding Street, the house rented by Mrs Coulter, and anyone who might have been wandering around the old neighbourhood that night would have been confronted with the remarkable sight of two wolves with daemons reading street signs. Happily, the area was deserted save for a few drunks and men who disappeared into the shadows the instant they heard someone approaching, and Lee and Lyra made their way to their destination unseen.

Number 56 looked almost exactly like numbers 54 and 58. It was a modest detached house in a state of disrepair that had long ago progressed to decay. The garden was a jungle of brambles, rhododendrons and sundry bits of rubbish. The roof had more holes than tiles and half the gutters were missing. All the windows were boarded over, and the brickwork was crumbling. There was nothing to indicate that anything at all was lurking in the house save mice and spiders.

At least, nothing that would alert a human. But the two wolves and the two daemons could easily hear low, rough voices talking, somewhere inside the building.

_Let’s get closer and eavesdrop,_ said Lyra, and they crept into the wild garden, and followed the sounds until they found the room they were emanating from, round the back of the house. The window was boarded over, but the tiniest sliver of anbaric light was seeping through the crevices between the window frame and the hoarding. And the conversation could be heard distinctly. Men, two of them, with coarse voices roughed by alcohol and tobacco.

At first their talk was mundane: the weather, the local beer, an illegal boxing match one them had placed a bet on. Chat any street hoodlum might have indulged in, interspersed with the slosh of beer in bottles and the scrape of chair legs against lino, which meant they were probably in what used to be the kitchen. Until:

‘How long are we keeping them here, then?’

‘Not sure. Till the lady tells us otherwise.’

‘What then? Disposal, I suppose. I hate them kind of jobs. Gets messy.’

‘Perhaps not. She wants ‘em alive for now. Maybe she’ll let ‘em go.’

‘Nah, can’t see it. They might rat on her.’

‘You seriously fink Gyptians could say anything to hurt _her?’_

‘Maybe not, but they’d be a loose end. She don’t strike me as the type to leave loose ends. Which means _we_ got to be extra careful.’

A pause. The glug-glug of beer being swallowed.

‘Why’d we take this on, then?’

‘Good money, remember?’

‘Oh, yeah.’

Lee frowned inwardly. Those missing Gyptians had almost certainly been kidnapped on Coulter’s orders, judging by the conversation. Probably as blackmail, to force their families to transport the captured wolfwalker to somewhere Mrs Coulter had in mind. So, what now? Alerting the Council that Mrs Coulter was making off with their prize behind their backs would take too long and there was no guarantee they’d take an anonymous tip-off seriously…

_Mr Scoresby? Over here!_

He realised Lyra was sniffing by a back door, Pantalaimon as a terrier beside her. He trotted over, dodging an impressive pile of empty beer bottles on the way, and surveyed the entrance. It was a battered old piece of timber but looked sturdy enough.

_No, don’t_ look _at it!_ Lyra said, and he refocused his attention. _Use your ears, and your nose if you can. There’s more than two people in there._

‘She’s right,’ Hester whispered. ‘I can hear movement, upstairs.’

Lee listened, tuning out the mumblings from downstairs, and to his astonishment he _could_ hear something upstairs: creaking floorboards, indistinct murmurings, the scuffling of someone or something moving around – or trying to. His nose was picking up a multitude of scents too: damp, dust, the yeasty smell of beer, the savoury smell of a fish and chip supper, the stink of unwashed bodies… and the sour tang of sweat and fear.

_Let me go in and take a look,_ he said.

_We’ll both go,_ said Lyra, and Lee was about to protest when he realised, he had no way of making her stay outside. With a sigh, he examined the door.

_Let’s try this door and hope it’s unlocked,_ he said. Lyra immediately stood on her hind legs and pressed the handle downwards. Lee held his breath in case the door creaked and alerted the occupants, but luck was with them, and the door swung open easily. Lyra dropped back to all fours.

_You’ve done that before_ , Lee remarked, and before Lyra could confirm or deny it, crept past her into the ruined house.

There was a matted old carpet in the hall, which Lee was immensely thankful for – he realised he now had claws that could be heard on wooden floors. The two ne’er-do-wells were in a room off to the left. There was a set of stairs at the far end of the hall, and he led the way, Hester loping alongside him and Lyra and Pantalaimon close behind.

Pantalaimon turned himself into a tawny owl and flew down the hall to perch on the bannister. He peered upwards, then looked down at the wolves and winked. Lee took this as a sign to proceed and went to the base of the high, narrow stairs. They were uncarpeted, and he proceeded slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible (and trying to work out how to climb stairs with four legs).

They all made it to the landing without incident (aside from a tense moment when one step creaked under Lee’s weight) and followed the muffled sounds to another door. Lyra rose up again to test the handle – locked.

_Rats,_ she said, dropping back down. _Can we break it open? You’re probably strong enough, Mr Scoresby._

 _I probably am,_ answered Lee, wondering just how strong he’d become. _But it’d bring those two thugs upstairs, guns blazing. No, we need to keep quiet. I wish I had my fingers right now. I’d pick the lock._

Hester glanced at him askance but made no comment about also wishing Lee had his fingers. Lyra gazed at him admiringly.

_Will you teach me to pick locks?_ She enquired.

_Ah… we’ll consider that at a less urgent time. We need to either retreat or find the keys to this door._

‘Keys will be downstairs in the kitchen,’ Hester whispered. ‘I suggest one of you tries nabbing them and the other acts as decoy. Unless one of those guards has ‘em, in which case it’s fighting time.’

_Let’s try and avoid that,_ Lee said firmly. _Hester, you and me will be the decoy. Lyra and Pan can creep into the kitchen and look for the keys. All right, back downstairs, and be quiet._

Going down was considerably harder than going up. Lee very nearly went head over tail more than once. But they made it down, and he told Lyra to wait by the foot of the stairs while he crept outside and raised a ruckus.

He made it outside with Hester, only to find himself at a loss about what to do next. As man, he’d have thrown a stone at the boarded-up windows or tipped something over.

_What now?_ He asked Hester.

‘Howl.’

_Huh?_

‘Howl. You’re a wolf tonight, ain’t you? So, howl. You’ll have them charging out here to find out what’s making the noise. Just make sure you’re hidden before you start making a racket.’

_You’re getting good at this wolfwalker business, Hester,_ he said, and before she could voice any objections, dodged behind a leylandii bush. He briefly wondered what howling involved, how to do it, then shrugged mentally and decided to just try it and see what happened. He tilted his head back and howled.

The sound that emerged could never have come from a human throat. It was low, penetrating, harsh but with a wild loveliness that human music could never capture. And it must have lasted for a good ten seconds before he needed to draw breath, longer than any average human could have managed.

‘Yikes,’ murmured Hester. ‘That was beautiful. Scary, but beautiful. You might actually be able to sing like this, Lee.’

_I can sing as a man, Hester._

‘Sure, just not in key – get down, they’re coming!’

Lee flattened himself against the ground as the two hired thugs emerged, one with a revolver in hand, the other with a bulky club.

They stood, side by side in the dark, overgrown garden, eyes scanning the impenetrable murk… well, impenetrable to them. Lee smirked inwardly. He might not have fingers, but he had a wolf’s eyes. And so, he watched as they stood out there for a good five minutes, searching for the source of the disturbance.

‘It’s spooky,’ said one, a great hulk of a man with a placid countenance and a skink daemon curled round his neck. ‘This whole job is scary. That wolf the lady mentioned… it’s bad luck to trap a wolf round ‘ere. You’re cursed if you hurt a wolf. That were a warning, I’m telling you.’

‘Bollocks,’ snarled the other, a skinny man with a narrow face and a brown rat for a daemon. ‘Moonshine! They’re just kids’ tales, about the wolves. Dumb animals, the lot of ‘em… happen it were a dog or summing. Come inside, and make sure you close the door this time. You left it open.’

‘I never,’ the big man protested, his daemon nodding for emphasis, but the smaller man ignored him. They went back inside, the big man carefully closing the door behind them.

Lee counted down two minutes, and then ran over to the back door. He reared up on his haunches and tested the handle with a great forepaw.

The door opened easily, and Lee slid inside. He could hear the two guards, back in the kitchen. He flicked his ears from side to side, searching for Lyra and Pantalaimon.

She emerged from the shadows at the foot of the stairs, a set of keys in her mouth and a glint in her eyes. Pantalaimon was an owl still, keeping a lookout from the mouldering bannister.

_Nice work, Lyra,_ Lee said as he trotted forward to meet her.

_They were on the table,_ she answered, tail wagging. _Easy as a wink to get them. These men aren’t very clever. I’d want clever henchmen._

_These guys must be all Mrs Coulter could get at short notice, kid. Works to our advantage. Come on, back upstairs._

They made their way back up cautiously, but once again they managed it without incident, Lee taking care to avoid the creaky step. They made it to the door imprisoning someone or something, and Pantalaimon swooped down and turned into a black and white furred monkey. He took the keys from Lyra’s mouth, inspected them one by one, before choosing one to insert in the lock. He leapt on Lyra’s back and pushed it in. He heaved and strained but managed to turn it.

The lock opened with a _snick_.

Lyra stood on two legs to manipulate the handle, and the door opened with a low whine of abused hinges that made the wolfwalkers cringe. But no-one came pounding upstairs from the kitchen. After a moment of waiting, they peered into the room.

Staring back at them, trussed up like pigs for the slaughter and with gags stuffed in their mouths, were two Gyptians. Their dumbfounded expressions would have been very amusing in less dire circumstances.

_Tony Costa!_ Lyra exclaimed, looking at the dark-haired young man on the left. _Bernie was right! But where’s his daemon?_

Lee glanced around the room and espied a burlap sack hanging from a hook on the far wall. It was jumping and twisting as something inside fought for escape.

_Over there,_ he said. _Lyra, you go get that sack and get their daemons out, I’ll try and get these fellas free._

Lee walked over to the captive men while Hester waited discreetly in the hallway. They were terrified – he could smell it on them, along with the unwelcome savour of fresh blood. But neither moved away, probably in an attempt not to provoke him. Their feet were bound with coarse rope, and he walked behind them to inspect their hands. These were bound with narrow cord, so tightly it had to be restricting blood flow. Their wrists were scraped raw and bloodied from their efforts to escape their ties.

Lee inspected the knots – good work. He’d never untie them as a wolf, and he suspect even a dextrous human would struggle. He lowered his jaw to the bound wrists of Tony Costa and began biting at the cords.

The poor man nearly leapt out of his skin with fright and tried to pull away. But Lee was persistent and kept up his work. After a few moments, Tony stopped fidgeting and kept his hands and arms motionless.

There was a squawk, and a hawk daemon landed on the floor besides Lee, inspecting what he was doing.

‘Tony, hold still, he’s trying to set you free,’ she instructed.

There was a stifled exclamation from Tony, and Lee chuckled inwardly. A few more nips with his sharp teeth and the cords fell away. Tony tugged his arms forward, groaning at the pain in his abused muscles, and ungagged himself.

Lee moved onto Tony’s companion, and now he had help. Tony ungagged the other Gyptian and then began rubbing at his own wrists to restore circulation.

‘What the hell is going on?’ gasped the other man, flabbergasted.

‘No idea, but they seem to be here to help,’ Tony answered, as his daemon fluttered to land on his shoulder. ‘Hold still, he’s setting you free. Let me get my legs untied and I’ll help.’

The other Gyptian’s bindings came loose, and Lee walked around again to assist with the leg bindings, but Tony was ahead of him. He tugged the rope away from his feet and moved to help his companion.

Lyra, Pantalaimon a discreet brown moth balancing on her head, walked over to stand by Lee. The second freed daemon, a water vole, scampered to her human and clung to his leg.

Lee surveyed the men with a professional eye. They’d obviously been knocked around a bit and were probably half-starved, but neither seemed to have taken any great harm from their captivity. But they were probably weak and would need help fighting if their captors realised, they were free.

_Let’s escort them out, Lyra_ , he said. _But if a fight breaks out, I want you to run for it._

_What? No! We’re pack! I can’t just leave you!_

_You can and you will. You think I want to face your father when we rescue him and explain I let you come to harm?_

Lyra grumbled to herself but didn’t say anything else. Lee eyed her for a moment before turning to the door. He nudged Lyra with his muzzle, and she went on ahead of him. He walked to the door, and turned back to look at the two men, who were standing in the middle of the room, staring.

Lee looked out at the landing, then back at the two men. They took the hint and began making their cautious way forward. Lee paused for Hester at the door, and she ran on before him. He hoped his bulk would shield her from the curious gaze of the Gyptians and followed Lyra and Pan down the stairs.

Lee winced as the Gyptians crept downstairs – or tried to. Their footsteps sounded like military drums in his wolfish ears, but although he expected the guards to come charging out of the kitchen at any moment, there was no sign of them. Everyone made it downstairs undetected, and he and Lyra led the men towards the back door.

They sneaked along the hall, barely daring to breath. It had gone quiet inside the kitchen, the guards concentrating on drinking. Lyra went first, so light on her feet she seemed made of mist. Lee was much bigger and heavier but accomplished the journey successfully. Tony Costa was next, his hawk perched silently on his shoulder, and finally the second Gyptian, cradling his daemon close.

They all crept through the back door, sliding out sideways so as not to risk it making a sound. Lee was just looking round for a safe route to lead the Gyptians along when one of them crashed into the pile of empty bottles.

_Ah, crap!_ Lee muttered, as the sounds of chairs scraping and feet pounding emanated from the kitchen. _Lyra, get away! Go to the side of the house!_

He turned back towards the house as the first guard – the placid-faced one with the club – came barging through the door, heedless of what might be waiting for him. Tony Costa, with admirable composure, snatched up one of the scattered bottles and cracked him over the head with it.

The man was built like a brick outhouse, but getting a bottle smashed over your head will shake even the toughest individual. He sank to his knees, dropping the club as his hands went to his head. Tony snatched the weapon up and waited for the second guard.

‘Hold it, sunshine!’ the skinny man bellowed as he stepped outside, revolver at the ready. Tony took a swing at him, but the man dodged, his rat daemon snarling from where it clung to his coat. He fired a shot.

Lee and Hester crouched low as the gunshot echoed around the deserted garden. The man hadn’t taken time to aim, which probably saved Tony’s life. As it was, the shot grazed his right arm. Tony swore and dropped the club, while his daemon screeched.

‘Easy now!’ the guard said, upper lip lifting in a sneer. ‘No funny stuff! You can either come back in, nice and quiet, or I can shoot you both in the kneecaps and drag you back inside. Your choice.’

The Gyptians stood, unwilling to surrender, poised as they were on the very edge of freedom, but knowing this was no idle threat.

_Can we take him, Hester?_ Lee asked his daemon.

‘Too much chance of him getting a shot off,’ Hester whispered back. ‘Wait till he’s shepherding them back in the house and then knock him flat.’

_Tony! No!_

 _Lyra!_ Lee gasped. _Lyra, keep back!_

It was too late. She came bolting towards Tony Costa, teeth bared and ready to inflict hurt. The guard reacted on instinct. He swung the gun toward Lyra and fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret nothing!
> 
> Tony Costa - Daniel Frogmore 
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	11. The Key to the Lab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee and Lyra have a serious conversation, and an ally proves his worth.

_Lyra!_ Lee gasped. _Lyra, keep back!_

It was too late. She came bolting towards Tony Costa, teeth bared and ready to inflict hurt. The guard reacted on instinct. He swung the gun towards Lyra and fired.

The shot struck the ground next to her, missing her by an inch. She yelped and flung herself sideways in terror, going sprawling in the long grass. The Gyptian with the water vole daemon scrabbled for a bottle, while Tony Costa grabbed for the gun. He missed and the guard shoved him away, hard, into the wall of the house. The guard aimed at Lyra again.

Rage, red and blazing and unquenchable, rose up in Lee. He gathered his strength and leapt.

The guard never saw him coming. One bound carried Lee over ten feet of space and he collided with the guard an iota later. His weight and strength bore the man to the ground, the gun skittering from his hand to land somewhere in the shrubbery. He lay beneath Lee, all the breath knocked from him, and flapped his limbs like a landed fish.

Lee growled, teeth bared, every particle of the anger he felt towards this scrawny, vicious, worthless specimen vibrating through his wolfish body. The guard gazed up into the face of a furious wolf – the razor-edge teeth, the killing rage in the eyes – and promptly fainted.

Lee snarled in frustration. He wanted to gouge and rip and savage, and this capitulation wasn’t satisfying. But then he heard his name being called.

_Mr Scoresby! Mr Scoresby! It’s all right, he’s out cold. We’ve got to go – now! Come on, quick!_

‘She’s right, Lee. Come on now. You’ve done what you needed to.’

Hester, his darling Hester. And Lyra.

Lee raised his head. Hester was on his left side, Lyra on his right, crouched low, ears back and tail low with anxiety. Beyond them were the Gyptians and the still-conscious guard, gaping at the tableau like simpletons.

_Right, right_ , he murmured. _Got to go. Come on, everyone, let’s run._

He clambered ungracefully off the unconscious guard, and loped to the side of the house, making sure Lyra was with him this time. She was, Pantalaimon shaped like a hare, running beside her. He risked one glance back and was oddly gratified to see Tony Costa and the unknown man jogging along behind them, making a break for freedom.

‘Let’s see these fellas to safety and then get back to the forest,’ Hester murmured to him.

_Good thinking. Come on, we’ll see them safely away, to the river at least, and then get home. You and me, need to have an important conversation, Lyra._

Lyra, wisely, made no response, scurrying on ahead to scout the quickest route to the river.

###

The wolfwalkers parted ways with the Gyptians on the banks of the Isis. There had been no sounds of pursuit, and Lee was confident that they’d put enough distance between the Gyptians and their captors that the former were reasonably safe. He and Lyra left them by a stretch of water occupied by a couple of Gyptian boats and melted away into the night with no farewells.

The journey back to the den was as silent as the one to the river. Lyra knew she was in trouble, and Lee was trying to rein in his atypical anger. He was still struggling with a maelstrom of emotion when the cliffs sheltering the pack and their sleeping human forms loomed up before them.

Lyra ducked into the tunnel first, Lee followed after checking they weren’t being observed. He emerged to find Lyra being greeted by the entire pack, all of them eager to reacquaint themselves. He mentally rolled his eyes and made for his sleeping place – or would have, if someone hadn’t nipped his tail.

_Ouch!_ He yelped and spun round to find Towser with his front legs on the ground and rump in the air, begging to play. Hester chortled. 

_Oh, you’re in trouble, buddy!_ Lee exclaimed and leapt for Towser. The omega darted away, and Lee found himself in the ridiculous position of chasing Towser round and round the den.

Then another wolf leapt in front of Towser and checked his progress. Towser skidded to a halt – and Lee went barrelling into the omega, tumbling him head over tail. He danced to a standstill, worried he’d hurt the smaller wolf, but Towser was laughing where he was sprawled on his back, paws waving in the air.

_Crazy wolf,_ Lee mock-grumbled. He was laughing himself, the fear and adrenaline of the night’s exertions draining away and leaving him feeling worn and a little shaky. Lyra was obviously not sharing in his comedown. She was engaged in a game of tag with Acorn and the two nameless wolves. Watching her, Lee shook his head and wished for the resilience of youth.

‘Lee?’ said Hester. He turned round and found her sitting atop himself (no way was _that_ ever going to be less than disconcerting). ‘You’re exhausted. Come on now, back in here.’

He didn’t argue. He stepped over to his slumbering body and almost collapsed into himself. Everything went dark, and peaceful.

Then, like last time, he became aware of himself again. Feet, legs, fingers, arms, midsection. The reassuring weight of Hester curled up on his chest. And something warm and heavy on his legs…

Lee blinked his eyes open and raised his head. His tracker wolf was lying atop his shins, dozing. Hester was awake, one eye on him and one eye on the wolf. The rest of pack was sleeping in the grey light of dawn. No sign of Lyra.

‘Lee?’ asked Hester. ‘You all right there?’

‘Fine, Hester,’ he sighed, letting his head fall back onto his rolled-up coat.

‘I hope so. I haven’t seen you in a temper like that in years. Pretty impressive, even if it was a bit scary.’

‘I just… I saw red, Hester, when he fired at Lyra. She’s just a kid.’

Hester was quiet for a moment.

‘She’s right,’ she said. ‘Lyra, I mean. You _are_ becoming a pack.’

‘I guess we are. What do you make of it?’

‘Oh, don’t worry Lee, I’ve no big objections – I wish you could’ve picked a less outlandish family to adopt, though. And I’m still not too thrilled with you being a wolf at night. Downright dangerous.’

‘I’m not adopting her,’ Lee murmured, stroking Hester’s ears. ‘I’m just here till she gets her father back.’

‘Does Lyra know that?’

‘She’s lonely, Hester. She’s clinging to me because I’m all she’s got at the moment. It’ll be different when she has her father.’

Hester was silent for a few moments.

‘I’m not too sure about that, Lee,’ she said at last. ‘From what she’s told us about this Asriel, he doesn’t come across as the loving type.’

‘Oh, and I do? Come on, Hester.’

‘You were ready to kill that man tonight, Lee,’ Hester murmured. Her voice was mild, but the words were merciless. ‘And you’re not a violent man. Something’s taken a hold of you. You’re changing. Because you’ve become one of these wolfwalkers, or else because you’re growing attached to Lyra. I’d rather it was the latter, but I’m not sure. It’s frightening me. I’ve always known you, every bit of you and now I’m…struggling.’

The crack in Lee’s heart widened a little. He must have flinched, for a moment later Hester was pressing herself against him, as if she wanted to merge with him as his wolf-form had done.

‘Lee, I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so sorry for what I said yesterday. I was scared and mad and I took it out on you. I’ve been perishing with shame ever since. Going with you and helping bust those Gyptians out last night… we worked together like we always did. Made me feel a brute for accusing you of forgetting me.’

Lee rose up gently and took Hester in his arms, holding her close. She nestled against him, and he felt his battered heart heal a little.

‘Hester? What are we going to do if there’s no cure? If I’m a wolfwalker for life? Could you… cope with that?’

‘I guess I’d have to,’ Hester muttered. ‘But let’s take it one night at a time for now, Lee. We’ve got to get Lyra’s father back before we can do anything else.’

‘Speaking of Lyra…’ Lee muttered, some of last night’s anger rising up in him. ‘I need to have a word with that little wretch.’

‘Don’t go too hard on her, Lee.’

‘You’ve changed your tune. You wanted nothing to do with her yesterday.’

‘She’s growing on me. Reminds me of you, in some ways.’

Lee ignored this and tugged his legs out from under the slumbering wolf, who whined a protest but then went right back to sleep.

He checked on Lyra, but she was still asleep. He left her in peace and went to wash and then brew some coffee, of which he was in dire need.

He was just finishing off his first mugful and contemplating what to cook for breakfast when Lyra emerged, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Pantalaimon was a stoat again and followed her unobtrusively.

‘Morning,’ she yawned.

‘Morning,’ he answered. ‘Bacon or sausages?’

Lyra, thrown by his casual tone, lowered her hands and regarded him suspiciously.

‘I know you want to yell at me, so get it over with,’ she groused.

‘I’m not going to yell,’ Lee answered, nettled by her stroppiness. Didn’t the girl have any concern for her own safety? ‘But I am going to ask what the hell you thought you were playing at last night. I told you to run and you do the precise opposite and nearly get yourself shot!’

Lyra pouted and folded her arms defiantly.

‘I wasn’t going to run away,’ she said. ‘Tony needed help!’

‘Yeah, and a lot of help you were,’ Lee remarked coldly. Lyra flushed red with anger and humiliation.

‘You weren’t doing anything!’ she snapped. ‘You were just standing there and watching them be taken! I had to do something!’

‘No, you didn’t,’ Lee answered, keeping a tight grip on his temper. ‘I was waiting for the right moment. I was going to let that thug force the Gyptians back into the house and _then_ take him out when he had his back turned. Not just go charging in like a loon! Like you did!’

Lyra’s self-righteous anger ebbed, and she looked away from Lee’s reproving face, fidgeting with the hem of her old jumper.

‘I wanted to fight,’ she muttered, not quite willing to admit she’d been foolish. ‘I wanted to _do_ something! Father always leaves me behind whenever he goes somewhere, he says it’s not safe for me, and I _hate_ it!’

‘Maybe he was right,’ Lee muttered, suddenly feeling old and tired. ‘I’ve been an idiot, taking you into situations like the one last night –’

‘No!’ Lyra interrupted, looking up in alarm. ‘You can’t leave me behind too! This is _my_ fight! My father who’s in trouble! You need my help!’

‘Maybe I do, but what I _want_ is you, safe,’ Lee said with conviction. ‘And how is that gonna happen if you can’t follow orders or keep your head down when you need to?’

‘I’m not scared!’ Lyra burst out, as Pantalaimon jumped to her shoulder and surveyed Lee. ‘I’m not afraid of fighting! I’m not a coward, I won’t run away.’

‘Lyra,’ Lee sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. ‘It’s not about being a coward. Only a fool goes out looking for a fight. It’s about knowing _when_ to fight. I never found a fight I didn’t want to run away from.’

Lyra, about to launch into a rant about her determination to take on the world to rescue her father, fell silent, thrown by this admission.

‘But – but you’re brave,’ she said, bewildered. ‘You’re a good fighter.’

‘Just because I can fight, it doesn’t mean I want to,’ Lee murmured, wishing desperately for more coffee. ‘If that makes me a coward – well, then I am one.’

The silence that followed was resounding.

‘You’re not a coward,’ murmured Lyra, apropos of nothing. ‘You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met, except Father.’

‘Thanks,’ Lee said, oddly touched.

‘So… we shouldn’t fight? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘Of course not,’ Lee answered. ‘There’s times in this life when you have to fight. Cause you’re backed into a corner, or just cause it’s what you should do. What any good person should do. But Lyra, get this in your head – I only fight when I _have_ to. And I try to do it smart. Wait for the opportune moment. It’s why I’ve survived as long as I have done in the north. Well, that and I have Hester looking out for me.’

‘You’re welcome, by the way,’ Hester drawled.

Lyra stood, abashed, her defiance leeched away by Lee’s words.

‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered – a little sulkily, but Lee could tell she was sincere this time. ‘I’ll try to – to think more, in future. But Mr Scoresby, don’t leave me behind. We’re pack. You need me.’

Lee _almost_ wanted to deny this. But Lyra had a point. There was still too much he didn’t know about being a wolfwalker. And Lyra might only be a girl, but he had gained too much respect for her to deny her the chance to rescue her father. She was brave, cunning, smart. He owed her honesty.

‘Yeah, I need you,’ he answered. ‘But Lyra, till we get your pa back, it’s my job to look after you, too. So, no more stupid stunts. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ she grinned. ‘Bacon.’

‘Huh?’

‘Bacon. For breakfast. And there’s some bread we can toast, and a bit of cheese. Can I try some coffee?’

‘Sure, but you’d better have plenty of sugar with it. I take mine black, and it’s strong –’

‘Bleurgh!’

‘– stuff. Serve you right for not remembering what I said about thinking before doing.’

_Thwap!_

‘Ouch!’

‘She threw a conker at you! Get her, Lee!’

‘Run, Lyra!’

‘Get back here, you little rogue! Fight with honour!’

‘Nope! I’d only lose!’

‘Lyra, mind Towser!’

‘Ah!’

‘Gotcha!’

Lee caught her and lifted her in the air, spinning them both in circles as Lyra shrieked in mingled delight and dismay and squirmed to be set free and Hester reared up on her hind legs and boxed at a defeated Pantalaimon. Lee laughed and set Lyra on her feet.

‘I won that round, kid. You’re on clean up duty.’

Lyra grinned.

‘I took it easy on you,’ she proclaimed, and darted off to wash before Lee could retort.

‘She _definitely_ reminds me of you,’ remarked Hester. ‘Come on, let’s get cracking with breakfast, or you won’t eat till lunchtime.’

###

Come mid-morning they were back in Oxford. Lee had two purposes in mind: first, talk to Iorek and see if he had any more information about wolfwalkers and to see if he’d be willing to assist in rescuing Lyra’s father. Second, to do some scouting around Jordan and see how best to break in there and find Asriel.

They made their way to Iorek’s forge, but just as they were approaching the entrance, Hester stopped dead.

‘Someone’s in there – someone who isn’t Iorek,’ she pronounced. Lee heard it a moment later, after he’d tuned out the hustle and bustle of the city. Someone was waiting in the shed, pacing back and forth across the stone flags that formed the floor, leather-soled shoes smacking against them.

‘Wait here,’ he said to Lyra. She nodded, and Lee advanced cautiously to the forge’s door. He pushed it open gently and peered in.

A tall man with black hair, dressed in tweeds and walking shoes was pacing round, his barn owl daemon perched atop the cold furnace.

‘Dr Van Buskirk,’ Lee said by way of greeting, opening the door wide.

Van Buskirk jumped, but his worried expression melted into relief when he saw Lee standing there.

‘Mr Scoresby!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ve been hoping to see you again. I was here to find the armoured bear, actually, to see if he could tell me your whereabouts.’

‘Any sign of Iorek, by the way?’ Lee enquired, but Van Buskirk shook his head.

‘None – although I’ve only been waiting for half-an-hour,’ he answered.

‘Hmm,’ Lee said, wondering what on earth could have captured Iorek’s interest sufficiently to pull him away from the forge for two whole days. He had no fears for Iorek. No human could force the _panserbjørn_ to do anything against his will, but his continued absence was a puzzle.

‘Anyway, it’s you I want to speak to,’ Van Buskirk continued. ‘I need to talk things over with someone, and after the morning I’ve had, I think you’re the man to do it with.’

‘I’m flattered,’ Lee said with only a hint of irony.

‘Better get the kid in here, she’ll be getting antsy waiting,’ said Hester. Lee acknowledged this was probably true.

‘One moment,’ he said to Van Buskirk, and stuck his head out of the door. Lyra was lounging against a nearby wall, looking like nothing so much as a bored child watching the world go by. But when Lee beckoned to her, she came running, Pantalaimon in fox-shape beside her.

‘Dr Van Buskirk’s here, and he wants to talk to me,’ Lee told her in a low voice. ‘I wouldn’t mind having you in there too – but can this guy be trusted? He’s got the Magisterium on his back, don’t forget.’

Lyra contemplated the half-open door.

‘I think he can, yeah,’ she answered thoughtfully. ‘No need to tell him everything, anyway. We’ll say you’re a friend of Father’s, and you’ve been taking care of me.’

Lee saw the sense in this and stepped back to allow Lyra into the forge. Van Buskirk uttered a soft exclamation as he saw her, and his owl-daemon flapped her wings.

‘Lyra!’ he said, amazed but not surprised. ‘You’re mixed up in this too? Bernie was right!’

‘Bernie Johansen? You’ve been speaking to Bernie?’ Lee asked sharply. Had Bernie been blabbing their visit to all and sundry? Van Buskirk nodded.

‘Bernie came to see me this morning, and spoke to me in strictest confidence, Mr Scoresby. You need have no fear on that account.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ Lee said coolly, placing a hand on Lyra’s shoulder. ‘What is it you want to talk about, Buskirk?’

‘ _Van_ Buskirk, if you please,’ the scholar responded affably. ‘And the reason I want to speak to you is that a mutual acquaintance was having a genteel fit this morning. She had plans to move a research subject from Jordan College to a private facility tomorrow night, but it seems she will be unable to. She wasn’t forthcoming about the reason, but I know she intended to use a Gyptian boat and that the Gyptians involved weren’t strictly volunteers.’

‘Oh?’ said Lee.

‘Yes,’ said Dr Van Buskirk. ‘After I made your acquaintance yesterday, I had a feeling you might have been involved in thwarting her plans. And this morning, Bernie Johansen came to see me. He was aware of… a certain amount of displeasure on Mrs Coulter’s part. She was quite vocal about it in front of some of the serving staff, and people will gossip.’

‘That they will,’ Lee agreed.

‘Bernie explained he’d passed information regarding two missing Gyptians to a man who’d visited him yesterday, a Mr Scoresby. And Mr Scoresby’s companion, Jordan College’s very own Lyra Belacqua,’ Van Buskirk continued. ‘When I heard that, I knew you had to be involved somehow.’

‘Bernie gave us his word he wouldn’t mention our visit,’ Lee muttered, angry that he’d misjudged the man. ‘He had no right to tell you.’

‘Don’t be too hard on Bernie,’ Van Buskirk said, though his voice was sympathetic. ‘He and I have been united against Mrs Coulter and the Council for several days now. We’ve been passing details about their experiments and the missing Gyptians back and forth, trying to find a way of thwarting whatever the Council – and by extension, the Magisterium – have in mind.’

He paused and looked at Lyra.

‘Besides, Bernie was very worried about Lyra here,’ he added, as his daemon narrowed her eyes and glared at Lee. ‘No offence, Mr Scoresby, but he didn’t know who you were and had no idea if she was safe with you.’

‘I am,’ Lyra said indignantly, before Lee could respond. ‘Mr Scoresby’s been looking after me and making sure I’m safe ever since we met.’

Van Buskirk regarded Lyra with just a touch of surprise. She gazed at him defiantly and placed a hand atop Lee’s.

‘Then we owe you our thanks, Mr Scoresby,’ Van Buskirk said, as his daemon stopped glowering. ‘For taking care of Lyra, and for whatever you did last night.’

‘What makes you think I did anything?’ Lee enquired, his voice dry.

‘If you don’t want to go into detail, I don’t much care, but don’t think of me as an idiot,’ Van Buskirk answered, just as wryly.

Lee smiled.

‘Fair enough, doctor,’ he said. ‘Assuming I _was_ involved, what was it you wanted to discuss?’

‘Thwarting our mutual acquaintance, of course,’ said Van Buskirk. ‘And the City Council, and by extension the Magisterium. I am a scholar, Mr Scoresby, and my research, my work, is my life. There are forces ranged against me and there always will be, it is the nature of the world, but Mrs Coulter and the Council aren’t just interested in suppressing my work, they want to pervert it for their own ends. I can’t let that happen, ever.’

‘What _is_ the nature of your work, doctor?’ Lee asked, genuinely curious. ‘It seems to have gotten a lot of people riled up.’

‘As it was meant to,’ Van Buskirk responded, not without a touch of satisfaction. ‘My studies focus on the human spirit, Mr Scoresby. Not our daemons, but the part of ourselves that inhabits our bodies. The part that comprises our consciousness, our personalities…’

‘Yes, because daemons aren’t at all important,’ his daemon sniped. Van Buskirk rolled his eyes.

‘Not helping, Lithiel.’

‘Fine, it’s not the time for argument, I understand. But I still think you’re selling daemons short in that respect.’

‘Doesn’t everyone?’ grumbled Hester.

‘We’ll debate that another time,’ said Van Buskirk firmly. ‘Basically, Mr Scoresby, Lyra, my research has been about the element of the human spirit that is linked to, but separate from, our daemons. All theoretical, you understand. I study religious and historical texts, a few works of literature, folk tales and legends… my work has raised eyebrows in the past, but it’s only recently that I’ve attracted attention from the Magisterium.’

‘Was it because of that paper you published?’ Lyra asked.

‘Yes,’ Van Buskirk answered, surprised. ‘How did you know about that?’

‘Fath – Lord Asriel told me. He’s been following your research.’

‘Hmm,’ said Van Buskirk.

‘Someone needs to enlighten me,’ interrupted Lee. ‘What paper?’

‘A paper that, in essence, argued that the human spirit was capable of transfiguration. That it could assume other forms. Not as daemons do, you understand. A daemon’s final form is incorruptible. But the part of the human consciousness that resides in our body can assume other forms. There are legends all over the world about such transformations. Thunderbirds in New Denmark, berserkers in Lapland, _kitsune_ in Nippon.’

Never before had Lee been so thankful for all those poker games he’d played. He kept his face expressionless as he listened. Hester crouched with her eyes half-closed, apparently uninterested.

‘Sounds heretical,’ he observed mildly.

‘Indeed, it is,’ said Van Buskirk with a grin. ‘The Magisterium still abides by the teachings of Augustine, which argues that such transfiguration is impossible, a perversion of the human form made in God’s image. But I believed in the possibility. The legends are so numerous and so consistent that it would be sheer folly to discount them.’

He paused and looked Lee dead in the eye, and Lee suddenly knew that Van Buskirk was a man of substance, who could be counted upon in a tight spot.

‘I don’t know what your interest is in the wolves in Badbury Forest, but I am willing to stake much on your believing in the legends surrounding them, Mr Scoresby. The legends about –’

‘Wolfwalkers,’ Lyra interrupted. Lee watched Van Buskirk closely but saw no surprise. Rather, he appeared to have had a suspicion confirmed.

‘Yes,’ Van Buskirk said. ‘Wolfwalkers. Such legends have persisted around Oxford for years, and I referred to them in my paper, but until about ten days ago I had no inkling they were true.’

‘And then?’ asked Lee, though he already knew the answer.

‘And then,’ Van Buskirk said heavily, ‘I was approached by Alderman Danvers and Mrs Coulter on behalf of the City Council – though it wasn’t nearly so polite as I make it sound.’

‘Lemme guess – they had what they said was a wolfwalker and made it clear you’d be helping them with their experiments on it,’ suggested Lee, and Van Buskirk nodded.

‘Yes. They were most… persuasive. They threatened me, which I do not care about – at least not much – and they threatened my sister, which I _do_ care about. I’ve been doing as you suggested, Mr Scoresby, and going along with their demands. I’m waiting for word from my sister to say she is safe, and then to hell with the Council and its bloody experiments.’

‘Good strategy,’ Lee murmured. ‘Any idea when your sister will be home free?’

‘I’m not certain,’ sighed Van Buskirk. ‘She’s been on a research trip to New Holland, but as soon as the Council threatened me, I sent a message to her to go into hiding. She’ll be in touch as soon as she’s able.’

‘Hmm,’ said Lee. ‘Sounds like you’ve played it well so far. You’re right about us, doctor – we do believe in the legends about the wolfwalkers. In fact, we believe there’s one in Jordan College as we speak.’

Lyra clutched at his hand, and he squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

‘There is,’ said Van Buskirk. ‘A wolf, a great big wolf, and it has a – a daemon. I know it sounds ludicrous, but –’

‘What kind of daemon?’ Lyra demanded.

Van Buskirk stared at her, expression thoughtful, as if working out a puzzle.

‘A snow leopard,’ he answered. ‘A most unusual daemon.’

Lyra said nothing, but her grip on Lee’s hand tightened until it was painful. He longed to comfort her but couldn’t risk it in front of Van Buskirk. Nonetheless, Hester loped over to Pantalaimon and lent against him, offering what solace she could.

Something stirred in Lee’s mind… Alderman Danver’s bitter little comment about Mrs Coulter’s ‘snow leopard pet’… Lyra’s father.

‘Doctor,’ Lee said. ‘I’ll lay it out for you. I want that wolfwalker out of Jordan and set free, and I’d be mighty obliged if you’d help. Any information you have to offer, anything you think might be of use… it’s up to you whether you share it, but I’ll be rescuing that wolfwalker regardless. Just so’s you know.’

Van Buskirk smiled, a conspiratorial grin.

‘The wolfwalker is being held in a basement room in the Sheldon building – a temporary laboratory,’ he informed Lee. ‘It’s not a terribly secure room – once you get past the guards. There’s one door in and out, which is always locked. There are always two Magisterium guards on duty – armed ones. And the wolfwalker itself, and its daemon, are caged. Anbaric cages, hooked up to the anbaric energy grid. You’d have to cut the power before getting them out.’

‘Thanks,’ Lee answered. ‘Doctor, the river that flows under Jordan… does it flow under the Sheldon building?’

‘It does,’ confirmed Van Buskirk. ‘But it’s been sealed off for years. Theoretically, you could get inside via the river, but it could only be done by boat, and then you’d have to bash down a wall or two.’

‘Duly noted,’ Lee answered. Van Buskirk hesitated a moment, and then reached into an inside pocket.

‘The key to the lab,’ he said, proffering a small silver bit of metal. ‘The Council doesn’t know I have it.’

‘Lyra, go find some clay or wax and we’ll take an impression of that,’ Lee murmured to her, and Lyra ran out of the shed without a word, Pan scurrying after her. Lee and Van Buskirk watched her go.

‘Mr Scoresby, how exactly is Lyra caught up in all this?’ Van Buskirk asked, his voice not admitting the possibility of Lee refusing to answer. ‘This is a very dangerous business – it’s no place for her.’

‘I agree,’ Lee sighed. ‘Basically, doctor, she’s caught up in it because her – her uncle is caught up in it. Asriel. He’s in trouble, and she’s determined to get him out of it. He’s the only family she’s got.’

Van Buskirk was quiet for a minute, but his eyes were glittering, focused, taking in Lee and Hester inch by inch, until Lee began to feel like one of the scholar’s research subjects.

‘Look after her, Mr Scoresby,’ he said at long last. Lee had the feeling he wanted to say a great deal more but couldn’t find the words for it.

‘I will,’ said Lee. And then: ‘I’ll lay down my life before I let her come to harm. My word on it.’

Lee hadn’t intended to say so much, but Van Buskirk smiled to hear it, and the atmosphere in the forge lightened.

Lyra returned at this fortuitous moment, with a lump of wet clay in her hand and more spattered down her front. Lee took it from her and held out his hand for the key. When Van Buskirk handed it over, he pressed it into the clay to form a mould, and grabbed a rag draped over an empty barrel to wrap it in.

‘Here,’ he said, handing the key back to Van Buskirk. ‘You hang onto that in case you need it.’

‘Thank you, Mr Scoresby,’ said Van Buskirk. ‘You need anything else, send me a message through Bernie.’

‘We will,’ replied Lee, tipping his hat. ‘Come on, Lyra. We’ve got work to do. Doctor, I’d recommend waiting here for a few minutes more, before you leave.’

‘Good luck,’ the doctor blurted, as they made their way to the door. Lee smiled to himself.

‘That’s handy, but I find having your wits about you is more useful. Keep yours sharp, doctor. See ya.’

They ducked out of the shed and Lyra led Lee down a side street.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘There’s a key-cutter two streets away.’

‘Sounds like a plan, kid. And then we need to find out what the hell has happened to Iorek. Can’t be too hard to find an armoured bear around here.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rescue effort is gathering pace... but will Lee and Lyra be able to find Iorek Byrnison and recruit him to their cause? You'll have to wait to find out, because I'm cruel like that.
> 
> Van Buskirk mentions someone called Augustine. He's the equivalent of St Augustine of Hippo, a theologian and philosopher who had a tremendous influence on the development of Western Christianity. Augustine also wrote about werewolves, though he disputed the idea that a human could change their shape, arguing in his 5th century work 'The City of God Against the Pagans' that only God could transform matter. Instead, he argued werewolves were the result of the Devil and demons causing illusions and hallucinations, making people believe they had turned into the wolves. This is the official position of the Magisterium in my story, so you can see why they're not too happy with Van Buskirk, and also why Lee and Lyra are in such danger.
> 
> The shape-shifters mentioned by Van Buskirk are all based off legends found in our world. Berserkers are wolves/bears from Scandinavia. Kitsune are were-foxes and their legends originate in Japan. Thunderbirds are enormous birds from Native American legend. Interestingly, stories about shape-shifting can be found worldwide and the animal a human turns into is usually the dominant predatory species in a particular area. The names of different countries/regions in Lyra's world are all based on the original books and 'The Book of Dust.'
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	12. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyra and Lee search for Iorek, and call upon the wolves for help.

‘You’ve jinxed us,’ Hester pronounced several hours of fruitless searching later.

After getting a key to the laboratory cut, Lee and Lyra had commenced hunting for Iorek as discreetly as possible. Lee had nursed a beer in a couple of different taverns while wheedling information out of drunk patrons, while Lyra had gone to pick the brains of the local rapscallions. But while everyone and everyone’s daemon had an outlandish story about the bear or an opinion on him and his motives for being there, none had a clue as to his whereabouts.

‘Something’s not right,’ Lee muttered to Lyra and Hester both as they sat on a bench in the Botanical Gardens next to a gravel path. ‘Iorek’s not exactly inconspicuous. He’s either run into some trouble or he’s hiding for a reason – which begs the question how he’s managed to do it.’

‘I bet it’s the Gyptians again,’ Lyra said, scratching patterns in the path with a stick. ‘They’re the only ones who could be hiding him. They got hiding places all over. They smuggle all sorts.’

Lee reflected that it was the most likely possibility.

‘If that’s true, they’re not likely to give him up to the first person who comes calling,’ he muttered. ‘We’ll have to try, though. He’s good to have on your side in a fight, and I was hoping he’d help bust your father out.’

‘We need to talk to the Gyptians anyway,’ said Hester. ‘I see the way your mind’s working, Lee. You want to get into that lab by sneaking in through the underground river. We’ll need a boat and someone to steer it.’

Lyra shoved herself off the bench and stood in front of them.

‘I can find the Gyptians for us,’ she said. ‘I used to play with them all the time. I know where they’ll be moored.’

She kicked at the loose gravel, Pantalaimon in stoat form, scampering around her and dodging the flecks flung at him.

‘I wish we could find him,’ she said with just a touch of wistfulness. ‘I’ve never seen an armoured bear. I want to see what he looks like.’

‘I know where he is,’ said someone.

The comment came from a lanky youth with a ptarmigan daemon who had just happened to be walking past when Lyra was speaking. As Lee and Lyra both paused to stare at him, he blanched and began to scurry off.

‘Hang on, pal,’ Lee said, rising hastily. ‘Didn’t mean to scare you. We’re just looking for this bear. The young lady here has never seen one, and we’d be mighty obliged if you’d tell us where he is.’

The youth hesitated for a moment, but some innate politeness prompted him to answer.

‘I was cycling to Oxford through Badbury Forest,’ he mumbled. ‘I’ve got a job interview. I swear, I saw the bear in the forest. He was huge – white fur, armour… like out of a fairy tale. He saw me and disappeared… no idea how he did it, being so big. But he was there.’

Lee and Lyra exchanged glances.

‘Thanks,’ Lee said to the youth. ‘By the way, young fella, seeing an armoured bear is considered lucky in the north. You’ll do great at that interview, now you’ve seen him.’

The young man beamed before hurrying off, his daemon flapping alongside him. Lee watched him go before turning to Lyra.

‘Well, that was a bit of luck,’ he remarked. ‘Only problem is, Badbury Forest is a sizeable place. We’ll struggle to find Iorek in there, no matter how big he is.’

‘No, we won’t,’ Lyra proclaimed, eyes glowing. ‘We’ve got the pack to help us, remember?’

‘She’s right, Lee,’ said Hester. ‘Let’s head back to the den and get searching. We need Iorek’s strength – and besides, he might be able to tell you why you’ve turned into one of these wolfwalkers.’

‘Come on!’ Lyra said eagerly, pulling at his sleeve. Lee chuckled and together they left the park, ready to return to the den.

###

The wolves all hurried to greet them as they re-entered the den. Lyra spent a couple of minutes talking to them and stroking them (except for Rattail, who was busy cuddling an indignant Hester) and then rallied them to hunt for Iorek.

‘We’ll need your help with this, Mr Scoresby – you know what Iorek Byrnison looks like,’ said Lyra. ‘You’ll have to tell them what to look for.’ 

‘How do I do that, exactly?’

‘It’s the same as when you’re a wolf. You _think_ at them, like you did with me and your daemon. Only you’ll have to keep it simple, they don’t understand if it’s too complicated.’

‘Like with reflections, huh?’

‘Yeah, like that. I’m going to tell them that Iorek’s your packmate and we need to find him but keep hidden. They’ll have no problem with that. You think about what Iorek looks like.’

‘Don’t strain yourself, Lee, with all this thinking,’ snarked Hester.

‘Less comment from the peanut gallery, thank you,’ Lee snarked back, smiling a little. It felt damn good to be exchanging quips and insults with Hester again. ‘Right, okay, here goes…’

He felt a fool, but shut his eyes gamely, and tried to picture Iorek in his mind. His white fur, those impenetrable eyes, his slow but incomprehensibly strong movements, his keen senses his gargantuan size, how he would not attack provided they kept their distance…

Lee waited until he had a good clear mental picture of Iorek, and then willed it to appear to the wolves.

There was a chorus of surprised-sounding yips and barks, and he guessed he’d been successful. He opened his eyes to discover Lyra had closed hers and was probably instructing the wolves in their search. The wolves were milling around, excited, and as soon as Lyra opened her eyes they began trotting towards the tunnel, Nose-scar and Rattail in the lead.

‘Let’s follow them,’ said Lyra. ‘It’s better than waiting here.’

They followed the wolves out of the den and watched as they merged into the dappled green and russet of the woodland, so quick and quiet that in half-a-moment it was as if they had never been there at all.

Lyra and Lee followed at a more sedate pace, almost sauntering through the woods. They spoke little, neither feeling the need for conversation, but content in one another’s company. Hester scampered along at Lee’s side, while Pantalaimon turned into a red squirrel and leapt from tree to tree.

They had almost reached the river they had crossed as wolves a couple of nights before when the young male wolf came pelting through the undergrowth, barking excitedly.

‘They’ve found Iorek Byrnison!’ Lyra exclaimed. ‘Good work, Tracker!’

‘That was quick,’ remarked Lee, impressed. ‘And since when is he called Tracker?’

‘A couple of nights ago,’ grinned Lyra. ‘You named him, remember?’

Lee laughed at Tracker, who was leaping about like a frisky lamb.

‘I guess I did,’ he smiled. ‘Come on, Tracker, show us where old Iorek is.’

###

Iorek wasn’t far away, as it turned out.

Tracker led them to a glade fifteen minutes’ walk away (at their human pace, not wolfish). Iorek was standing in the middle, head moving from side to side like a snake as he followed the movements of the wolves circling the clearing.

Lee thought of telling Lyra to hang back a moment but discarded the idea. The great bear was an honourable warrior. He would never harm a child.

‘Afternoon, Iorek,’ he said as they strolled up to the glade. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’ Lyra giggled at this, and Iorek turned to meet them.

‘Lee Scoresby,’ he growled. ‘I am glad you are well. I have been seeking a wolfwalker in these woods –’

The bear went so still, and so silent Lee thought for an absurd moment that he’d suffered some great wound. Then he thought that the bear was shocked by Lyra’s presence, but Iorek had scarcely glanced at her. He came to a halt on the edge of the clearing and waited.

After a moment, Iorek strode up to Lee, head tilted so he could examine him more closely. He surveyed the aeronaut, from his boots to his hat, and his gaze lingered when he met Lee’s eyes.

‘Something’s happened to you, Lee,’ he pronounced.

‘Plenty has happened to me over the last couple of days,’ Lee answered cheerily, though he couldn’t suppress a shiver at Iorek’s words.

‘No, not your usual escapades,’ Iorek said, ignoring Lee’s jesting. ‘Something’s happened to _you_. Something on the inside. Your eyes… there’s a light in them. A light that wasn’t there the last time I saw you.’

The bear looked down at Lyra. She faced him without a hint of fear.

Iorek looked from Lyra to Lee, and back again.

‘Lee…’ he said at long last, voice soft with shock, as rattled as the aeronaut had ever seen him. ‘You’re a wolfwalker.’

‘That I am,’ Lee acknowledged. ‘Came on sudden-like.’

‘But… how?’

‘We were hoping you could tell us,’ Lee sighed, and Hester’s ears drooped slightly. ‘But before we discuss it, Lyra, meet Iorek Byrnison. Iorek, this is Lyra.’

‘I’m glad to meet you, Iorek Byrnison,’ said Lyra. ‘I’ve been wanting to ever since Mr Scoresby told me about you.’

‘And I have been wanting to meet you ever since Lee told me about _you_ ,’ Iorek answered courteously. ‘I came to this land in search of a wolfwalker, Lyra. I am glad to have found you.’

The pack had gathered on the fringes of the glade during this conversation, watching the newcomer with mingled curiosity and caution. Lyra beckoned Nose-scar and Rattail close.

The leading wolves came forward a couple of paces, then stopped. Lyra frowned and motioned again, but the wolves didn’t move.

‘Come and meet Iorek!’ she said, but Rattail shook herself, shivers running through her fur in a way that expressed an emphatic _no_.

‘Do not compel them,’ said Iorek. ‘I will not hurt them, but I could, and the wolves will know it.’

Lyra looked disappointed, but nodded agreement. Pantalaimon jumped down from the tree he was clinging to, and nestled against her face, regarding Iorek with bright eyes. Iorek studied him in return for a moment and then spoke to Lee again.

‘As I mentioned, I have been searching for you since yesterday, Lee. I was approached by some Gyptians with an interesting proposition. Two of their number had gone missing, and they believed they were abducted. In exchange for my assistance in freeing them, we agreed they would smuggle me out to the forest, though I did not tell them my reasons for wishing to escape Oxford.’

Iorek paused and looked at Lee with just a hint of wryness.

‘However, early this morning the missing Gyptians returned with an outlandish story. They had indeed been abducted but had been freed by two wolves. One small one with golden fur, another massive one with black fur. Lee, am I correct in thinking this was you and Lyra?’

‘You’re right,’ Lyra piped up. ‘Mr Scoresby’s been helping me try and rescue my father. We had to get the Gyptians out because they were being used to blackmail the other Gyptians into transporting my father somewhere. He’s been taken prisoner and kept in Jordan College by the City Council but the woman who wanted to move him isn’t part of –’

‘Let’s move this discussion somewhere more comfortable,’ Lee interrupted before Lyra could befuddle them all. ‘Will the wolves be all right with us taking Iorek back to the den?’

Lyra held a moment’s silent conversation with Nose-scar and Rattail and reported that the wolves were content with Iorek knowing the den’s location but wished him to remain outside. As there wasn’t the remotest possibility of Iorek actually fitting inside, he readily agreed to this and they set off back to shelter.

The walk was comparatively silent, with Iorek deep in thought, the wolves keeping a respectful distance, Lee wondering how on earth to explain everything in coherent fashion and Lyra absorbed in gazing at Iorek. Soon enough, they reached the wolves’ den. The pack flitted through the tunnel, while Lee and Lyra arranged themselves on a fallen tree trunk and Iorek lent against the bluffs, and explanations and accounts of the past few days commenced.

The sun had sunk considerably lower in the sky by the time everyone was finished. Lyra’s situation took a great deal of clarification, as did everything that she and Lee had done and learned over the past few days. Iorek’s account of his doings was much shorter. The bear was never loquacious, but his story was simple: he had been approached by the Gyptians, smuggled onto a boat, waited there while they tried to locate the missing men and given a lift to the forest as thanks after the kidnapped Gyptians returned and their story told. He was far more interested in Lee’s becoming a wolfwalker.

Lee and Lyra told him everything they knew: Lyra and Lee’s first encounter, being bitten, sleeping in the wolves’ den, Lee’s first night as a wolf, his sharpened senses, with Iorek occasionally interrupting to ask a question. But when the great bear’s curiosity was finally satisfied, he was forced to admit he had no idea why or how Lee had been turned into a wolfwalker.

‘I had no idea berserkers – or wolfwalkers, for that matter – could be made, rather than born,’ he informed them. ‘I have never heard of such a thing.’

‘Shoot,’ muttered Hester. Lee glanced at her worriedly. She was still less than happy with Lee’s being a wolfwalker, though she hadn’t been openly antagonistic about it after yesterday.

‘That thing you mentioned, about the light in Mr Scoresby’s eyes… will people be able to see it too?’ queried Lyra, mercifully distracting everyone.

‘No. It is something only a bear can see,’ Iorek rumbled. ‘Speaking of seeing, Lee, as your friend, I must ask you to return to Bolvangar with me. I have found what I was hunting for, and I would appreciate it if you would lend your assistance to the problems plaguing the _panserbjørne._ ’

‘Assuming this wolfwalker thing is permanent, I’d be glad to,’ Lee answered, aware of Lyra and Pantalaimon turning sharply towards him. ‘But I’ve promised Lyra my help in rescuing her father, and I can’t go anywhere until that’s done.’

The apprehension drained out of Lyra like water. Iorek nodded his great head.

‘I understand. Then, I also pledge my support to rescuing your father, Lyra. A wolfwalker must be free. One caged is an affront to all that is right and good.’

Lyra smiled, delighted. Lee grinned at Iorek.

‘We’re mighty glad to have you on board, old friend. We’ll be needing your strength. And we’ll also be needing to talk to these Gyptians of yours,’ he said. ‘I’m forming a plan to rescue Asriel, but we’ll need a boat and someone to steer it.’

‘I will take you both to the Gyptians tomorrow,’ Iorek promised. ‘May I spend the night here? I have lingered too long among men. The reek of fuel and human waste has all but driven me mad.’

‘Of course, you can,’ Lyra beamed. ‘You’ll see Mr Scoresby as a wolf, then.’

‘I look forward to – wait,’ the bear said, turning his muzzle up to the sky. ‘Lee, something is coming. Be ready.’

‘Lyra, into the tunnel.’

‘But I can –’

‘Now, dammit!’

Lyra retreated. Lee drew his revolver.

A dark blur glided through the trees so skilfully that not a leaf stirred, although it was moving as fast as a sound through the woods. It landed in the clearing in front of the bluffs and resolved itself into a beautiful woman. Her daemon, a grey goose, landed beside her a moment later. She carried a branch of frost-pine and was dressed in rags of black silk draped about her slender form.

‘Lee Scoresby,’ she greeted him.

‘Serafina Pekkala,’ Lee breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't do a His Dark Materials fic without featuring Serafina Pekkala! I've decided that Kasia is a grey goose rather than a gyrfalcon as in the TV series, as I'm already taking quite enough liberties with the source material.
> 
> This will probably be my last update before Christmas, so a very Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate the holiday, and a Happy New Year to everyone. I hope it's a lovely peaceful time for everyone and that series 3 gets filmed ASAP!!
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	13. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serafina Pekkala is introduced to Lyra and the pack. But her presence means Lee has an agonising decision to make.

‘Lee, I am glad to see you well,’ said Serafina. Lee smiled at her and holstered his revolver. She turned and sketched a bow in Iorek’s direction. ‘Iorek Byrnison.’

‘Lady of the skies and northern winds,’ Iorek said respectfully. ‘You are far from home.’

‘As are you,’ she responded lightly. ‘It seems we are all strangers in a strange land.’

The was a rustling from the tunnel, and Lee recalled Lyra.

‘Lyra, you can come out, it’s safe,’ he called, and Lyra scrabbled out and ran to his side. ‘Lyra, this is Queen Serafina Pekkala, the witch I told you about. Serafina Pekkala, this is Lyra.’

‘Hello,’ greeted Lyra. Pantalaimon was in mouse form on her shoulder, and his whiskers quivered.

‘Should you curtsey?’ Pan squeaked. Lyra looked uncertain. Lee stifled a chuckle.

‘No need for that,’ Serafina said, stepping over to them as gracefully as any dragonfly. ‘You may call me Serafina, Lyra. I am glad to meet you.’

Lyra’s face lit up in awe. Lee took a moment to enjoy her wonder, and then began to question the witch-queen.

‘Ma’am, what are you doing here?’ he asked, puzzled. Serafina stared at him, also bemused.

‘I came because you called, Mr Scoresby,’ she answered.

‘But I never called,’ Lee said, quirking a quizzical eyebrow. ‘I’m in trouble as usual, but not _that_ much – hang on,’ he muttered, as something occurred to him. He glanced down at his daemon. ‘Hester? Something you’d like to share with me?’

Hester looked abashed.

‘I called for help that morning – the first morning after… well, you know.’

‘Ah, hell,’ Lee muttered, remembering Hester curled up in his coat, the little red flower tucked safely in an inside pocket. ‘That was underhand, Hester. Not like you at all.’

‘I was worried sick, all right?’ Hester blurted out. ‘Serafina Pekkala was the only one I could think of who might be able to… help.’

‘There’s nothing to help!’ Lyra said angrily.

‘Simmer down, everyone,’ Lee interrupted. ‘Ma’am, Hester called you without my knowledge. It’s been an… interesting couple of days, and – well –’

‘I see magic surrounding you, Mr Scoresby, a magic Lyra shares,’ Serafina said, her inscrutable eyes roving over both of them. ‘A magic I am unfamiliar with… an old, powerful magic. A wild magic.’

‘Not a cruel or wicked magic,’ added her daemon. ‘One you are struggling with, however.’

Lyra stepped closer to Lee and gripped his arm.

‘We’d better tell you the whole story,’ Lee sighed. ‘Care for some coffee?’

###

Serafina declined coffee, though she willingly followed Lee and Lyra into the wolves’ den after being introduced to the pack. Although still wary of Iorek, the wolves were infatuated with Serafina, milling round her and taking it in turns to nuzzle her and receive her caresses. Iorek didn’t seem to mind being left alone, however. He lay down outside the tunnel entrance, so as to hear what went on inside, and waited patiently.

Serafina seemed in no hurry to learn what was troubling Hester sufficiently to have called for aid. She surveyed the den, made the acquaintance of all the wolves, and after receiving Lyra’s permission, went into Asriel’s chamber to examine the slumbering man she somehow knew was there. She sat for a while by his side, not speaking, only looking, before emerging to hold a quick conversation with Kasia, her daemon.

And she answered innumerable questions from an unusually respectful Lyra, her witch’s eyes taking in how close Lyra stayed to the aeronaut, how he kept glancing over to make sure she was all right, how their daemons occupied the same discarded burlap sack, waiting as their people went about their business.

Night had fallen by the time Serafina Pekkala seated herself on an upturned crate and suggested Lee tell her the tale of what had happened over the last few days and the magic of the wolfwalkers. Yet again, Lee and Lyra told their story, preparing their dinner as they did so. Serafina asked no questions, instead whetting the blade of the knife she carried and waxing the string of her bow, occasionally exchanging a glance with Kasia. When they had finished, she stood and asked to see the healed bite on Lee’s arm.

Lee rolled up his sleeve and proffered his left arm. There were only a couple of faint indentations left, mended marks from Lyra’s teeth. Serafina laid a palm atop them and closed her eyes. Her daemon watched, his gaze searing.

Then, as everyone watched, the same golden glow conjured by Lyra’s healing magic began to shine from beneath Serafina’s hand. Tendrils of golden light unfurled like wild ferns, delicate and beautiful, and curled around his arm, reaching towards his shoulder. Lyra crept closer, fascinated, and Hester watched, her expression a curious mix of wonder and anxiety.

Then the light winked out, and the only illumination was that from the naptha lanterns scattered around the den. Serafina let go of Lee’s arm.

‘It was the bite you received that has done this, Mr Scoresby,’ said Serafina. ‘It passed the wolfwalker’s magic to you. I am not sure how, but your injury was where the magic found a way in.’

‘Cripes,’ Lee sighed, not surprised by this. He expected Hester to say ‘told you’ or something similar, but she only shuffled resignedly. Lyra, by contrast, was astounded. Pantalaimon turned into a robin and hopped around, cheeping in protest, while Lyra came to stand next to Lee, her fingers gripping at his sleeve.

‘That can’t be,’ she protested. ‘I’ve bitten people before when I was a wolf. I wasn’t meant to, my father said not to, but I did. One was a bully and he – well, the thing is, I’ve bitten them and no-one else has become a wolfwalker. I would’ve found out if they had.’

‘I am sure that is true,’ said Serafina Pekkala. ‘As I mentioned, this is a magic I am unfamiliar with, so I can only surmise what has happened. But I believe becoming a wolfwalker depends more on _who_ is bitten rather than bite itself.’

‘I don’t understand,’ murmured Lyra. Lee was feeling a little confused himself and was glad when Serafina spoke again.

‘Lyra, Mr Scoresby has a wild spirit, one that has been set free by your magic,’ the witch explained. ‘Most people do not. They live their lives by the rule of fear. Those other people you bit were not sufficiently brave or determined enough to become a wolfwalker. They never turned because they didn’t have the strength to embrace it.’

‘So, you’re saying this whole thing was my fault?’ Lee asked wryly.

‘I should’ve known,’ muttered Hester.

Serafina smiled, having become familiar with Lee’s humour during their previous adventure.

‘That was why your father always told us not to bite people!’ Pantalaimon cheeped, hopping onto Lyra’s shoulder and pecking at her ear. Lyra ignored him and looked Serafina Pekkala in the eye.

‘So… Mr Scoresby was _meant_ to become a wolfwalker?’ Lyra asked. Lee felt a forceful sensation around his heart that was not pain but something akin to it.

‘Not exactly,’ clarified Serafina. ‘He is unusual in having the potential to become one, and in having the strength to realise it. Most people are intensely afraid of anything unfamiliar, as I am sure you are both aware. Many also fear freedom. It is too great a burden.’

Lyra looked bemused – as well she might, Lee thought. She’d never known anything but freedom, for all the restrictions placed upon her by her father. Her nature had rebelled against being made to do anything against her will or made to keep her head down or made to be silent for the sake of peace. She would never comprehend why someone would wish to surrender the power of self-determination, give up the chance to be wild and fierce and free.

And him? Did he wish to surrender it?

His first instinctive thought was _no_. Being a wolfwalker was glorious. The strength, the wildness, the speed, the camaraderie of the pack, going forth at night in search of adventure and the excitement of the hunt…how could he possibly renounce that?

Then he glanced down at Hester, recalled how ill-at-ease his daemon was with his being a wolfwalker, their alienation from one another, and felt himself falter as if he were walking on ice that was cracking beneath his steps.

‘Can you…remove it?’ he forced himself to ask. Hester sat bolt upright. Lyra blanched, her fingers digging painfully into his arm. A _harrumph_ of disapproval echoed down the tunnel entrance, indicating Iorek’s opinion of this.

Serafina looked at him for a long moment, expression inscrutable.

‘I could,’ she said at last. ‘I can quiet the wolf and let you live as a man, Mr Scoresby. But only with your consent.’

‘No, no, you _can’t_!’ Lyra almost howled. ‘You belong with us now!’

‘Kid – Lyra, I…’ Lee began – and faltered as he realised, he had no idea how to put into words all he was feeling.

‘You’re not a human any longer,’ Lyra blurted, speaking so fast it was hard to follow what she was saying, life-or-death urgency in her voice. ‘You were never meant to be one! You’re so good at being a wolfwalker, you’re a natural hunter –’

‘It’s not who you are, Lee,’ said Hester, her voice so small only a wolfwalker’s ears could have caught the sound.

‘But it is!’ Lyra protested, glaring at Hester. ‘The pack loves you! Are you just going to turn your back?’

‘No – I’ll help rescue your father, no matter what,’ Lee said firmly.

‘This isn’t about that!’ Lyra said recklessly, eyes shimmering in the soft light of the lanterns. Lee turned towards her and placed a hand against her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. Her hands came up to clutch at his work-roughened digits, and Lee felt anew all the love – for it was love, and not just honour – that had led him to promise to protect and help Lyra.

‘Lee?’ said Hester. Lee looked down at her.

‘Hester? Can you learn to live with this?’ he asked. He had expected her to pause, consider, but her words came out in a rush.

‘I don’t know you anymore, Lee, and I don’t know that I can live with that,’ she said, ears flat against her back where she crouched.

Lee felt his chest ripped open as if he had suffered some mortal wound.

‘Serafina…’ he said. It was all he needed to say.

‘I will perform the ritual tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I need time to prepare.’

Lyra gave a choked little sob and pulled Lee’s hand away from her face. She ran to her sleeping place and vanished behind the curtain. Lee began to go after her, hating the heartbreak on her features, but Serafina’s hand on his shoulder restrained him.

‘Give her some time,’ the witch-queen advised softly.

Lee reflected that it was probably the wiser course of action. He turned around and strode over to the stone bench, staring morbidly into the flickering fire where some marrowbone stew was boiling.

‘Lee, I –’ began Hester.

‘I’ve said I’ll give it up, Hester, isn’t that enough for now?’ he asked harshly.

Hester made no response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mental casting again:
> 
> Serafina Pekkala - Ruta Gedmintas
> 
> I did promise angst! Hang on in there, anyone who's reading this, I'll update again very soon. 
> 
> So, it was Lyra's bite that turned Lee. Truthfully, I agonised over his 'wild spirit' being the reason he turned when so many other people hadn't. It seemed a bit sentimental and cliched (and Philip Pullman is NEVER sentimental or cliched, or only very rarely) but the fact that not all humans have the potential to become wolfwalkers will be important later in the story... But that's in the future. A very Happy New Year to you all in the meantime!
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	14. Conversation With the Alderman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! An extra long chapter today, to celebrate the arrival of 2021. Lee and Hester come to an understanding... but Lyra runs right into danger. Can Lee and Iorek save her?

The rest of the evening passed by in the manner of death by a gunshot to the gut: protracted and excruciating.

Lee alternately tended to the stew and brooded. Serafina, strangely composed, took care of her weapons and stepped outside briefly to talk to Iorek. The wolves divided themselves, most lingering near Lyra’s makeshift bedroom but Rattail and Tracker sticking close to Lee.

The daemons were behaving oddly, had Lee been in a humour to notice. Since his final snarled words to Hester, all three – Pantalaimon, in the form of a tawny owl, Kasia and Hester – had been huddled together in a corner, holding an intense conversation pitched too low even for Lee’s newly acute hearing to make out. Whatever it was, it was generating strong feelings, judging by the exclamations and foot-thumping from Hester that resulted.

Lee paid them little mind, preoccupied by his gloomy musings. He wondered if he’d manage to sleep tonight, have one last night as a wolf. He wondered if becoming a man again, only a man, would bridge the chasm that had opened up between him and Hester.

He wondered if Lyra would ever forgive him for what she so clearly believed was an abandonment. For a lonely girl with a missing father, it might be an irredeemable wrong.

After a few hours had dragged by, Lee went to check on Lyra, but she was curled up on her side, facing away from the den. She didn’t respond to him when he spoke, advising dinner was ready, except to clamp her hands over her ears. He let her be and went to dish up the food, hoping hunger would lure her out, when he found himself waylaid.

‘Lee,’ said Hester, loping up to him. ‘I need to talk to you, and it can’t wait.’

Lee, taken aback, nodded and seated himself on the stone bench. Hester hopped up beside him.

‘Lee, I think you ought to stay a wolfwalker,’ she said. ‘Wait – hear me out,’ she added, as Lee began to speak. ‘I know, I ain’t exactly been supportive of the whole deal. Partly because I was frightened for you – and the other thing is…’

She faltered. Steeled herself. Spoke again.

‘Lee, that first night, your first night as a wolf – I didn’t know you were gone. I missed everything. I never thought I could bear to be separated from you for an instant, and you were gone for a whole night. And what do I do? I sleep. Like an idiot.’ She paused to breathe and then hurried on. ‘It was only towards morning when I woke, and you weren’t stirring that I got worried. Even then, dumb me thought you were just out cold. It wasn’t until – until…’

‘Hester, is this why you’ve been harping on about not knowing me anymore?’ Lee asked, something clicking into place in his mind. She nodded, shamefaced.

‘Because it took you away. And I didn’t know it. I’ve been wanting to get rid of it ever since, so it will never happen again. But it’s breaking your heart to do this, Lee, and if your heart breaks – well, I’m in the same bind as before. Not knowing you anymore. I’d rather you were a wolf than a broken man.’

‘Hester,’ Lee began, not quite sure how to articulate all he was feeling, then deciding just to blurt it out. ‘You crazy jackrabbit, you’ve been acting like you can’t stand me because you thought you _failed_ me somehow?’

‘I’m not a damn jackrabbit,’ Hester muttered. But Lee knew Hester, from the tips of her long black tipped ears to her furry clawed toes, and her lack of denial was the equivalent of a resounding _yes_ from anyone else.

Lee dropped his head into his hands, more in exasperation than despair.

‘Do you know how I’ve been torturing myself, leaving you behind that first night? How I thought you hated me for it?’

‘At least you _realised_ ,’ Hester cried, propping her forepaws on his knee so she could see his face. ‘I didn’t! You were gone, and _I didn’t know_!’

‘Hester,’ Lee sighed, raising his head so he could look at her. ‘I didn’t know either – at first. I ran out after Lyra, and I didn’t have a clue about anything. Being a wolf, that you weren’t there – I only realised when I cast about for you. I’d never hold it against you.’

‘I should’ve known better, Lee,’ Hester muttered. ‘Well – perhaps not. There’s no instruction manual for this. But it’s how I felt. I guess I thought making all this going away would fix things, but it ain’t gonna. Besides, I had a long talk with Pan and Kasia just now. Seems Pan and Lyra went through something similar when she turned out to be a wolfwalker. He acted out, kept his distance, hated the whole thing, when it wasn’t so much her being a wolf he was worried about as being cast aside. Kasia too, when Serafina first became a witch.’

‘Rang a few bells, huh?’

‘More than a few. Pan realised he was selling Lyra short. Ignoring how much she loved him. Guess I’ve been doing the same.’

‘After all the apologies I made you? All the self-flagellation I’ve been doing?’

‘I’m a numbskull, all right? You happy?’

‘Can I have that in writing?’

‘Dammit, Lee!’

Lee chuckled, and stroked Hester’s ears. She nestled against his leg, eyelids drooping with relief.

‘Hester, I’m making this up as I go,’ Lee said. ‘You’re right about one thing – giving up being a wolfwalker would break my heart. But I can’t do it without you beside me. I can’t do anything without you.’

‘You aren’t gonna,’ said Hester, nuzzling against him as she sometimes did when their emotions ran high. Trying to convey all her regrets and love and loyalty beyond any doubts. ‘Serafina Pekkala was right – you are a wild one. Ain’t my place to try and put chains on you. I’d only be hurting the both of us.’

‘So, are we good?’

‘We’re good.’

Lee scooped his daemon into his arms without giving her time to protest and held her close. Hester pressed her proud form against him, and Lee’s broken heart mended itself.

They stayed like that for what seemed like a long time. Neither of them noticed Pan turning into a stoat and creeping over to look at them, or Serafina taking the stew off the fire before slipping outside to talk to Iorek, and tell him all was well, or the wolves gathering soundlessly to sit near them and share in the sense of renewal and closeness, or Kasia, his work done, taking off into the night sky to drift over the woods and countryside, revelling in his freedom even as the bond between himself and Serafina remained strong and true.

But no-one, not even Serafina, not even Pantalaimon, noticed the small golden wolf running through the tunnel and out into the woods, by herself, wanting only to get away, be completely alone, to wrestle with her grief.

Sometime later, Lee relaxed his hold on Hester and let her jump down to the ground. He raised his head and was wryly amused to see the wolves watching. Serafina Pekkala was waiting by the naptha stove, her eyes luminous and her face softly shaded in the thousand colours conjured by the flickering flames of the lanterns dotted around the den.

‘I have kept dinner for you, Mr Scoresby,’ she said.

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he answered. ‘And thanks for your assistance, but we won’t be needing that ritual tomorrow. I’ll be staying a wolfwalker.’

‘I am very glad to hear it,’ said Serafina, and her smile was genuine. ‘Whatever magic dwells inside you and Lyra, there is not enough of it in the world. Why don’t you rouse Lyra, and tell her?’

‘I will,’ said Lee with a sigh, wondering just how upset she was and how much grovelling he’d have to do. He walked over to her sleeping place. Pantalaimon, still in stoat form, scampered ahead of him and ducked under the curtain.

‘Lyra, get up! Come on, I’ve got great news! Lyra? Lyra!’

A moment later he ran back out into the clearing.

‘She’s gone, Mr Scoresby! I mean, she’s turned into a wolf and gone off without me!’

‘Ah, hell!’ Lee muttered. Serafina came to her feet in a trice.

‘She knows better than this!’ Pan shrilled, deeply disturbed. ‘Asriel is always telling her, hunt in a pack or not at all!’

‘I guess she wasn’t thinking straight,’ Lee muttered, silently cursing himself for a self-absorbed fool. He swivelled to face Serafina Pekkala. ‘Ma’am, will you help us find her? These woods aren’t safe at night, especially for a lone wolf.’

Serafina nodded and snatched up her cloud pine, leaping into the air and flying away as swiftly as a sparrowhawk.

‘Hester, let’s go,’ said Lee. ‘Pantalaimon, can you –’

‘I can’t go too far from Lyra, I have to stay near her body,’ he cried. Lee winced at his pain but could offer no comfort.

‘We’ll bring her back safely,’ he vowed, heading towards the passageway.

‘Wait!’ Pan called. ‘Take the wolves with you! Tell them to hunt for Lyra.’

Lee halted midstride – why hadn’t this occurred to him? He spun round, and saw all the wolves staring at him, tails down, ears pricked, aware of the shift in mood. He stared back, feeling an idiot, then shut his eyes and tried to recollect how he’d shown the wolves what Iorek looked like. _Thinking_ at them, trying to get across what he wanted them to do…

‘Keep it simple,’ murmured Hester at his side. ‘Nothing too fancy.’

So, Lee thought, _Lyra, find, quick_ , _careful,_ and thought it over and over. Within a few moments, Nose-scar barked in realisation, and when Lee opened his eyes the wolves were flowing around him, heading for the tunnel and out into the woods.

Lee and Hester followed them and scrabbled into the clearing before the escarpment to find Iorek waiting.

‘What has happened, Lee?’ he asked.

‘Lyra’s run off by herself, as a wolf,’ he said shortly. ‘We need to find her. There’s hunters crawling all over these woods and she’s not thinking clearly.’

‘Neither were you,’ Iorek observed.

‘Yeah, well, my head’s on straight now. You coming?’

Iorek rose to his feet by way of answer.

Lee strode off, trusting the armoured bear to follow. He had no particular direction in mind but found himself following the route taken by Lyra and the wolves during their hunt, guessing that she was operating on instinct right now. Iorek walked behind him, eyes and ears alert for the merest sound or glimpse of golden fur.

They walked for perhaps a mile without finding anything. A wolf occasionally flitted in and out of view, perhaps checking on them or following some trail hidden from Lee and Iorek. Lee was just beginning to think they were on the wrong track when Hester came to a halt, ears quivering.

‘Lee, there’s a ruckus up ahead,’ she whispered.

Lee heard it a moment later: low voices, the clang of metal, the stomping of horses, the snarl of some frightened creature –

He swore and took off in the direction of the sounds, Iorek lumbering behind him. Before he’d gone more than a few paces, Tracker appeared in front of him, checking his progress. The wolf was crouched close to the ground, tail down and ears pinned back, and he whined at Lee.

Somehow, Tracker’s intent communicated itself: _slow. Stalk. Ambush._

‘Hang on everyone, Tracker wants us to go in slow, sneak up on them,’ Lee translated, mostly for Iorek’s benefit. He had a feeling Hester knew what Tracker was driving at.

‘Wolf’s got a point,’ Hester said. ‘We don’t even know how many there are – or even if Lyra’s up ahead.’

Lee was damned tempted to say _to hell with it_ and go storming in regardless, but he knew it would be idiocy. He forced himself to slow down and think.

‘Iorek, you’d better wait here,’ he whispered. ‘If things come to fighting and you’re spotted, the authorities will be down on you like buzzards on a carcass.’

‘Hmph. You expect me to hide like a cub? You insult me, Scoresby,’ growled Iorek, his eyes glinting with temper.

‘No, I don’t,’ Lee said, aware that only their long-standing friendship was preventing Iorek from flattening him with a single blow of his paw. ‘I’m trying to prevent the Council and the Magisterium descending on us like lightning from the heavens. You attract attention, in case you hadn’t realised. One story about you attacking some poor defenceless hunters and…’

Iorek, as Lee hoped, saw the sense in this, and nodded.

‘Wait here, then,’ the aeronaut murmured. ‘You’re the cavalry. If I yell your name, then come running.’

Iorek grunted assent, and Lee and Hester began making their stealthy way towards the disturbance. Tracker went on before them, guiding them, and it was only a minute before they saw movement ahead.

Lee ducked behind a tree and peered out. Hunters – four of them. All armed. Three with rifles, one with a shotgun. He’d faced worse odds, but he’d prefer better. They were clustered around something, talking and gesticulating in the flicking light cast by their anbaric torches. Two horses, one of which looked remarkably like Lee’s borrowed steed from a few nights ago, were waiting patiently to one side.

Then one of the men walked off to search for something in a saddlebag, and Lee saw what the men were clustered around. A steel trap, a huge one, plenty large enough for a full-grown wolf, with a wire mechanism and a formidable padlock holding the gate shut.

But the wolf inside wasn’t a fully grown one. It was on the small side for a wolf, slender and its fur was an unusual shade of old gold. It crouched in a corner of the cage, snarling ferociously.

‘Ah, hell,’ muttered Hester wrathfully.

Something broke free inside Lee: a monster made of mad, black rage. It took all his strength to contain it. The sheer effort left him trembling, a cold sweat dusting his forehead as though death’s hand had brushed his face and left its shallow imprint there.

‘Steady now, Lee,’ murmured Hester, though when he glanced down, he could see her quivering with tension. ‘We need to play this carefully. We can’t afford a fight. Too much chance of Lyra getting hurt.’

‘So, what do we do?’

‘Get someone to cause a distraction while we get her out of the cage. We won’t need more than a minute.’

‘That lock on the trap is pretty solid-looking.’

‘Shoot it off.’

Lee nodded and looked down at Tracker, waiting with eager impatience by his side.

‘This is going to be dangerous, buddy,’ Lee warned him. Tracker tilted his head to one side as if to say _so what?_

‘Okay, here goes,’ murmured Lee, and _thought_ at Tracker. He tried to get across what he wanted: the wolves, surrounding the hunters, howling, making a noise, keeping their distance, leading them on a futile chase through the trees, letting him grab Lyra and make a run for it.

Tracker listened – well, not listened exactly, but comprehended what Lee was asking. He whined agreement and vanished into the undergrowth.

The howls sounded a mere minute later. Boy, could those wolves howl. They were every cliché in the book: blood-curdling, glass-shattering, spine-tingling, skin-crawling. They came from every compass point, rising towards the treetops and the sky in a wild crescendo.

It was almost amusing to see the hunters forget whatever they were chunnering about and whirl around, scrambling to reload their rifles, trying to light up the dark woods with their torches in a futile effort to pinpoint the source of the sound. And it _was_ painful to see Lyra-as-wolf stop growling and stare hopefully round, sensing rescue was on the way. Lee made himself hold perfectly still, and wait, as the hunters’ panic grew.

‘What the _hell’s_ going on?’

‘– never heard such a racket –’

‘Are they hunting?’

‘Bloody unnatural beasts!’

As he’d hoped, the hunters, to a one, loaded their guns and began to trek into the woods, searching for the source of the disturbance. Lee waited until they had all moved out of sight, forced himself to count down another minute for safety, and then bolted for the trap holding Lyra.

‘Hey kid,’ he called softly, running up and sliding to his knees before the cage door. She yipped with joy and pawed at him through the bars. 

‘Easy now,’ he said, examining the lock. ‘And get back! I’m probably going to have to shoot this off.’

Lyra retreated. Lee prodded at the padlock – galvanised steel, worse luck. A bullet would only scratch it and might injure Lyra if it ricocheted. What he really needed were bolt-cutters, but he might as well wish for the moon. Picking the lock was a possibility but would take too long. Only one thing for it.

‘Iorek!’ Lee called, glad the wolves were still howling, to cover the sound of his voice. ‘Iorek, old fellow!’

The great bear loomed into view a moment later, eyes scanning round for potential threats. Lee beckoned him over and gestured at the padlock.

Iorek, no fool, took one look at the lock and sniffed in disgust. He lifted his mighty forepaw to knock it off with a single blow.

‘I wouldn’t do that,’ said a man’s voice, light and pleasant-sounding.

Lee whirled round, rising to his feet and drawing his revolver in one smooth movement. It was dark as pitch in the woods, but Lee found he could see well enough by the light of the few stars peeping down through the leaves.

Alderman Danvers was standing beside the horses, dressed in his signature black, though without his ceremonial sash and chain. Despite confronting an armed man and an armoured bear in the middle of the night, miles from safety, he showed no signs of fear, or any emotion other than mild annoyance.

‘Mr Danvers,’ said Lee. The annoyance increased a notch from mild to moderate.

‘Ah, Mr Scoresby, our reluctant hunter,’ drawled Danvers. ‘Fancy meeting you here. And in the company of the _panserbjørn,_ too. I might have known you were a scoundrel.’

‘Never made claim to be anything else.’

Danvers’s cool expression twisted into one of petulant anger and his daemon, perched on his shoulder, chittered and stamped her feet in fury.

‘Step away from that cage, both of you,’ Danvers said, eyes blazing, giving him a manic look.

Lee strained his ears, listening for sounds of hunters or Magisterium forces hiding in the undergrowth, a weapon being readied, a vehicle of some kind approaching. He could hear nothing untoward, but Danvers was entirely too confident for a solo, unarmed man. Iorek was obviously thinking along the same lines, as he held himself still in readiness for a fight. Behind them, Lyra paced uneasily. Two steps left, two steps right.

‘And if we don’t?’ Lee queried, raising his revolver. He had a clear shot at Danvers. He hoped the man would be cowed by a show of force. He hated shooting unarmed opponents.

Danvers smirked.

‘I have warriors, trained by the Magisterium, in readiness nearby. But there is no need to risk them in a firefight with you,’ he said, smilingly. ‘Rank hath it’s privileges, you know. Have you heard of spy-flies, Mr Scoresby?’ he asked, almost purring over the words.

‘Yeah,’ answered Lee, who had. ‘Nasty little beggars. Powered by evil spirits.’

‘Well, permit me to introduce you to their near-relation,’ said Danvers, reaching into his jacket pocket. ‘Their official name is the Servants of Azrael, but our more irreverent souls refer to them as stingers.’

He held up a clenched fist. A reptile’s smile unfurled over his features as he opened his fingers to reveal what looked like a huge hornet – head, swollen abdomen, spindly legs – worked in bronze. It sat twitching on Danvers’s palm, filigree wings fluttering. Even at this distance, in the dark of the forest, Lee could make out the sting – two inches long, made of some silvery metal. It had a cap on the end, which Danvers now reached up to remove.

‘Mechanical assassins,’ he drawled. ‘Each equipped with sufficient venom to kill two grown men – and inflict a tremendously painful wound on your pet bear.’

Iorek growled, teeth bared. Danvers didn’t so much as flinch.

‘Playing about with dark magic, Mr Danvers?’ asked Lee, with a coolness he was far from feeling. ‘Strange, for a law-abiding man such as yourself. You’ll be in trouble with the Magisterium when they learn about this.’

‘Is that a threat, Mr Scoresby?’

‘An observation.’

Another silence – at least, everyone involved in the stand-off was silent. The woods were remarkably noisy. The trees whispered in the wind. Somewhere, an owl hooted. The wolves continued to howl.

‘It’s true,’ Danvers acknowledged as the pause in their bizarre conversation threatened to drag on for longer than was reasonable. ‘Stingers are not approved of by certain sectors of the Magisterium. Dabbling with evil spirits – not really above board, is it? Counter to the principles on which our entire society is founded: humility, sacrifice, self-discipline…’

‘I’m sure you’re a paragon of virtue in that regard,’ said Lee.

‘Oh, but I am,’ answered Danvers, quite seriously. ‘You see, Mr Scoresby, sometimes evil must be pressed into the service of good. In this case, it’s to oust a greater evil. An evil that is a beast, wearing the sacred form of man and his daemon.’

Lyra whimpered. Lee held steady, though the sound tore at his heart.

‘Not sure I’m following you, Mr Danvers,’ Lee said, doing his best lost-confused-help-me-out-here impression, hoping to stall the man while he thought of something. A bluff, but it worked.

‘They have many names – werewolves, berserkers, loup-garou, though around these parts they are known as wolfwalkers,’ Danvers answered. Now, here was a man who loved the sound of his own voice, thought Lee, as he reached behind himself with his free hand and jabbed a finger at the lock on Lyra’s cage, knowing Iorek would see it and divine his meaning. He shuffled a little to one side, hoping to shield the bear’s actions from Danvers’s eyes.

‘They are ungodly creatures,’ continued Danvers, eyes unfocused as he warmed to his theme. ‘Beasts who wear human skin. An abomination, and an affront to all that is righteous. It is my purpose, Mr Scoresby, to eliminate their foul presence from the earth. To cast out this evil, I have availed myself of a lesser evil.’

‘I guess that depends on your perspective,’ Lee remarked, spine tensing as he heard Iorek prying at the padlock – and the metallic _crack_ of it breaking. The sound carried, but although Danvers’s daemon sat up suddenly, nose twitching, the Alderman himself didn’t react.

‘ _Perspective_ is for artists, Mr Scoresby. It only muddies the waters in moral matters. I will perform a great service to the world by eliminating the… wolfwalkers,’ said Danvers, pronouncing the last word with such contempt that Lee was surprised that he wasn’t spitting venom.

The wolves had fallen silent. Lee knew that he’d have to make a move soon or they’d be outnumbered as well as prey for the stinger.

‘It’s not too late, Mr Scoresby,’ Danvers continued, eyes roving over Lee with feverish assessment. ‘You’re obviously a fighter. Lend your skills to the service of the Council. Redeem whatever sins you have committed in your lifetime.’

Lee pretended to consider. Behind him, he could sense Iorek tensing in preparation.

‘Get Lyra and get out of here,’ he whispered to the bear, so low he could scarcely hear himself, safe in the knowledge Iorek could make out the words. Then, louder: ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, Mr Danvers, seeing as how I’m of the Devil’s party and have no plans to amend that.’

Danvers shrugged.

‘Oh, well. I tried,’ he said. Then, to the stinger: ‘kill them all.’

And then several things happened at once.

Iorek, who had already broken the padlock, wrenched open the cage. Lyra bolted for freedom. The stinger took off from Danvers’s as fast and straight as an arrow. Lee fired off a shot.

Lee had been aiming at Danvers, but the bullet clipped the stinger’s metallic wings, beating so furiously that they were bronze blurs in the night air. The stinger went spinning off course. The bullet ricocheted and embedded itself in a tree.

Danvers dived for cover. Lee fired another shot and winged him on the shoulder – he heard the man’s decidedly impious curse before he dodged behind the horses, both of which were rearing and stamping in fear.

‘Run, Iorek!’ Lee called. ‘Get Lyra and the pack somewhere safe.’

Iorek didn’t hesitate but ran after Lyra as Lee fired a warning shot to keep Danvers down. Lee scanned the trees, planning to run after Lyra and Iorek provided the coast was clear.

It wasn’t.

Two hunters came charging up, alerted by the gunfire. Lee fired again: he hit the first man in the arm. He screamed and dropped his shotgun, his wildcat daemon yowling in dismay. The second man skidded to a halt, his hawk daemon flying to perch on a branch overhead and brought his weapon – a handsome bolt-action rifle – to his shoulder. 

Lee ducked behind the trap. The hunter fired and the bullet struck one of the steel bars, making a ringing noise not unlike a church bell. Lee peered out from behind the cage, saw the man take aim, pulled back just in time. The bullet’s passage parted his hair.

‘This boy’s got talent,’ he muttered to Hester.

‘Doesn’t matter, he’s got to reload sometime. Wait until he does, and then we run. You’ve plenty of bullets left for cover.’

‘You see Iorek and Lyra?’

‘Nah, but they got away safely. Heard ‘em go.’

Lee’s relief was so violent that it hurt. It was short-lived.

Hester’s long ears twitched, and she peered through the bars of the cage.

‘Lee, look alive,’ she whispered. ‘That stinger is crawling up the bars on the other side of the cage.’

‘Damn. Does the little bastard know where we are?’

‘Don’t think so. Your shot must’ve damaged it.’

‘What are the hunters doing?’

‘One’s trying to bind his arm up. The other’s waiting for a clear shot.’

‘Danvers?’

‘Not sure. He’s hiding somewhere.’

‘So long as he stays hid.’

‘So, what now?’

‘We need to get that hunter to use up his bullets, or else take him out. He’s fifteen yards away. He’s not using any cover.’

Lee twisted himself round and saw she was right. The hunter was aiming his rifle, waiting patiently for the right moment. No fool, this one – except perhaps his overconfidence. In the dark, with Lee pinned down, reinforcements probably on the way, he didn’t feel the need to conceal himself. Lee brought his arm up and aimed through the bars of the trap.

‘Hester? Mind providing a distraction?’ he asked. His tone was casual, but both of them knew how high the stakes were.

‘Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice,’ she sniped. She crouched in readiness. Leapt out from cover. Leapt back.

The bullet struck the dirt where Hester had been a heart-thump prior. Time seemed to slow as the hunter drew back the bolt to load a new bullet into the chamber. Lee took a half-breath. Adjusted his aim. Fired.

The bullet struck the man in the abdomen, throwing him backwards. His daemon shrieked but didn’t vanish. Injured then, not dead. Lee rose to his feet, mindful that a wounded man could still prove deadly. But the hunter had let go of his rifle and was pressing his hands to the bloody hole in his side.

‘Let’s go!’ cried Hester.

Lee bolted for the trees, Hester alongside him. Behind them, they could hear the thud of heavy boots as the other hunters came running, and Danvers shrieking ‘curse you, follow them! Kill them!’

‘Remember to serpentine!’ Hester said.

‘Damnit, Hester, this ain’t the first time I’ve done this!’

‘And if that ain’t a sorry thing to admit, I don’t know what is!’

Lee grinned and speeded up. He had no clear plan in mind, other than finding a safe spot and hiding until the hunters gave up their search. But a high-pitched mechanical whine changed his mind for him.

‘Down, Hester!’

Lee flung himself to the forest floor and rolled onto his back, revolver at the ready, trying to pinpoint the stinger through the noise it was making. It buzzed straight over him, and for a horrible moment he thought it had forgotten him and was going for Iorek or Lyra.

‘It’s landed on a tree behind us – the big ash tree,’ whispered Hester. ‘Reckon it’s targeting system or whatever it hunts with has been damaged.’

Lee twisted round uncomfortably and spied the tree Hester mentioned, a graceful structure twining its branches towards the sky. His eyes picked out the stinger, its damaged wings still twitching, the feeble light of the stars reflected off its bronzed exterior.

‘Move slow, don’t alert it,’ murmured Hester. Lee extended his arm, taking careful aim. If he missed, he wasn’t sure he’d get a second chance.

Of course, that would be when the two other hunters came charging up.

Lee froze. It was an instinctive reaction, his brain uncertain whether to proceed with his current action and shoot the stinger or battle the hunters. But a few moments later, he realised it was the best thing he could have done. He was lying on the forest floor, half hidden by scrub, dressed in dark clothing, with only the light of the stars and the narrow beams of the hunter’s torches illuminating the scene. He held perfectly still, and waited as the men went clomping past, their footsteps loud, their breathing stertorous, even their daemons – a retriever and a ferret – rustling the leaves as they ran.

The hunters ran off into the night. Lee lay there for a handful of seconds, to make sure the coast was clear. He’d take out the stinger once they were a decent distance away, and then run for it –

Iorek’s battle-roar ripped the night open. The stinger leapt off the tree, into their air and buzzed away.

‘Son of a bitch,’ said Lee. He jumped to his feet and ran in the direction Iorek’s roar had emanated from.

He didn’t have to run far before he stumbled upon the brawl taking place. He heard an angry snarl, and a second later he had to leap aside as one of the unfortunate hunters came flying towards him. The man landed in a heap, his ferret-daemon clinging to his coat, and lay unmoving. He was either unconscious or too smart to try again and Lee left him be.

Up ahead, Iorek was facing off with the last remaining hunter. The man was standing his ground, pointing his rifle at Iorek, but his retriever daemon was hiding behind his legs, snarling. Lee found he could _smell_ the man’s fear, the sweat pouring off him. He had good reason to be scared. In his armour, Iorek had little to fear from bullets unless one struck him in the eye. There was almost no chance of a killing shot.

Lee cast about for the stinger but couldn’t hear or see it.

‘Hester, try and find the stinger,’ he whispered to her, and strode forward, revolver at the ready.

‘I’d drop that rifle, were I you,’ he said to the hunter, aiming at the man’s head.

The man saw Lee, realised he was beaten, and stopped aiming at Iorek, holding his rifle by its barrel and taking his other hand off the trigger. He held his empty palm up in a placating gesture.

‘Rifle on the ground,’ said Lee. ‘Move slow, now. After you’ve put it down, I want you to step backwards.’

The hunter carefully lowered the gun to the ground as instructed, before taking two large strides backwards, hands still in the air.

‘Iorek? Bust that rifle,’ Lee said, and at once the whine of twisting metal filled the air. The hunter winced.

‘Right, sir,’ said Lee. ‘My friend and I are walking out of here and you’re going to wait quietly until we’re out of sight and hearing. Any attempt to follow, any attempt to rally the troops after us and I’ll shoot you like a dog. Understand?’

The man nodded. Lee glanced at Iorek, who took the hint at once and began to retreat. Lee kept his revolver trained on the hunter for a few moments more, before beginning to step backwards in the same direction as Iorek. Once they were out of sight, they could make a run for it…

‘There! Shoot them! Shoot them all!’

It was Danvers – and six, no, eight men, all armed. All wearing the black uniforms of the Magisterium. Danvers was wild-eyed, blood welling up between his fingers where he’d clamped his hand to his shoulder. The men he’d summoned were silent, expressionless, their daemons mastiffs and Dobermans and Alsatians. They advanced towards Lee and Iorek in a line, raising their rifles.

Lee and Hester raced for cover. Iorek roared his defiance, and the men all fired at him.

Most of the shots clanged uselessly off the iron armour. One opened a gash on Iorek’s right foreleg, but he didn’t seem to notice. He ceased roaring and charged straight towards the Magisterium guards.

Most scattered. One ran directly towards the beech tree Lee had concealed himself behind, and Lee felled him with a punch to the jaw he never saw coming. Two stood their ground: they and their daemons were tossed aside as if they weighed no more than kindling. One smacked into a tree with an unpleasant _crack_ of breaking bones, the other hit the ground hard and lay winded.

Another man dodged back out of range of Iorek’s forepaws and pointed his rifle at the bear again. Lee took aim with his revolver and shot the man in the leg. He collapsed to the forest floor and his rifle fired uselessly into the air, his daemon howling in pain.

‘Four left,’ he muttered. The one remaining hunter had done the smart thing and scarpered.

‘And Danvers,’ said Hester. ‘Right, there’s two at ten o’clock – ah hell, that stinger’s back!’

Lee heard the sharp metallic whine a moment later. He cursed and peered out from his cover, trying to espy the demonic thing.

‘Iorek, look alive, the stinger’s buzzing round!’ he shouted. He’d given away his position, but there was no other choice, not if he wished to warn Iorek. He scanned the woods for their enemies. Two guards had followed his lead and had found cover amongst the trees (he could hear them reloading, a new ability he was grateful for), one was crouched low, searching vainly for a weak spot in Iorek’s armour as the bear advanced on him, the other had seized hold of Danvers and was trying to drag him away from the scene (he was putting up a lot of fight for a meek little bureaucrat) and the stinger –

Iorek bellowed, a cry so filled with raw agony that Lee’s entire being convulsed with terror. His breath was stolen, and all his muscles seemed to have melted. Beside him, Hester shook with phantom pain.

Lee forced his unwilling gaze back towards Iorek. The stinger was clinging to Iorek’s left foreleg, having just injected its poison, and as Lee watched the injured limb collapsed, sending Iorek sprawling on the ground.

Two of the remaining guards, sensing an advantage, left cover and began stalking forward. The one crouched down before Iorek swung his gun towards where Lee was hiding, and he ducked back behind his tree. He could hear the one remaining man restraining the raving Danvers.

‘Keep hidden,’ whispered Hester. ‘We’re going to have to be smart about this. Wait till I give say so and then swing round the tree and shoot.’

‘He’s got the drop on me.’

‘Yeah, but you’re faster than you were. Faster than most men. Just don’t fire too early. Don’t matter how fast you are if you miss your shot.’

Lee nodded and prepared for what could well be his final shootout. He’d escaped dire situations before, through skill and daring and good companions and dumb luck, but now he felt the hazards and the risk as jaggedly as if a knife were at his throat. What would become of Lyra, if he were killed? Who would take care of her, and help her?

He couldn’t think of that now, because if he did, he’d start screeching like an owl. Lee braced himself, took one last deep breath and prepared to fight his way free or die in battle –

Had he not been a wolfwalker, Lee would not have heard the hard _huh_ from the guard approaching him. It was a quiet, unmistakeable sound, one he had heard before. It was the gasp a man makes as he is stabbed in the back, as all the breath leaves his lungs.

Lee looked out, and saw Serafina Pekkala, her knife buried up to his hilt in the hunter’s flesh. She yanked it out, and the man dropped to the ground, his daemon dissolving into nothingness.

The two guards advancing on Iorek tried to turn round, aim their guns, but Serafina moved faster than thought. Moments later they lay dead on the ground, their throats leaking blood, their daemons gone.

Lee turned to look for Danvers and his bodyguard, but the guard must have succeeded in carrying the Alderman out of there while he was distracted. Of the four surviving men, two were unconscious, one was on the ground, moving feebly as he tried to recover from the blow Iorek had dealt him, and the last one was binding strips of his torn shirt around the wound in his leg. His daemon growled as she stared at Lee but made no move to attack.

Serafina stepped over to Iorek and examined his injured leg. She closed her hand on something and gave a sharp tug. Iorek bellowed in pain. Serafina held up the stinger in her clenched hand, an expression of disgust on her face.

‘Place it on the ground and step back, ma’am,’ asked Lee. Serafina did so, and Lee promptly shot two rounds into it. It splintered into a dozen different fragments of bronze shrapnel with a final protesting screech of metal on metal. Serafina looked over the debris, and, wrapping her hand in a fragment of black silk, picked up the lethal silver sting. She secreted it somewhere about her person. Lee nodded approval before turning to the two conscious men.

‘You Magisterium boys, all that have survived,’ he said. ‘You can leave with your lives. But if you ever come back to these woods, you’ll die, and I ain’t guaranteeing it’ll be quick.’

‘We are soldiers of the Magisterium. We do not fear death,’ hissed the man with the hole in his leg. Lee rolled his eyes.

‘Good for you. But if you’ve got any sense, you’ll be afraid of dying a pointless death, and that’s what happened to your friends here,’ he said. ‘Whatever the Council and the Magisterium have told you you’re fighting for is a load of shit.’

He didn’t bother arguing further, instead turning to Iorek and Serafina.

‘Iorek, old fellow,’ he asked, urgency in his voice. ‘Can you move? Danvers will be back with reinforcements, I guarantee it, and even Serafina Pekkala might struggle holding off dozens of men. No offense, ma’am.’

‘None taken,’ she answered with the ghost of a smile.

‘I can move,’ Iorek grunted. ‘But not far. My strength is leaving me.’

‘We need to get him back to Lyra, have her heal him,’ said Hester.

‘Back to the den,’ murmured Lee. ‘Ma’am, do you know if Lyra –’

‘I found her running through the woods and escorted her back to the den, Mr Scoresby,’ interrupted Serafina. ‘She is waiting for us there. My daemon is watching over her.’

Something slackened inside Lee and let him breathe a little easier.

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ was all Lee could find to say to Serafina. But he had the feeling she understood him perfectly.

‘Let’s get moving,’ he said, and waited as Iorek began heaving himself, slowly, painfully, to his three good feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lee's comment about 'being of the Devil's party' is taken from a quote by William Blake. He said of John Milton 'the reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels & God, and at liberty when he wrote of Devils & Hell, is because he was a true Poet and of the Devil's party without knowing it.'
> 
> I hope Danvers is suitably scary here - I was worried he was veering into pantomime-villain territory in this chapter, but he's a fanatic and has no capacity for doubt, so he's bound to be extreme. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	15. Wild Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyra's safe, but can she and Lee help Iorek Byrnison?

It was a distressingly slow, pain-racked journey back to the safety of the den.

Iorek was unable to put his injured leg to the ground and grunted in pain every time he hopped forward on his one good leg. He didn’t waste any breath on complaining, but Lee, who knew him well, was unnerved by how readily Iorek accepted his suggestion that they pause for a rest when they were half-way there. That, more than anything, told him how much Iorek must be hurting.

Serafina Pekkala brought up the rear, murmuring words in a language that Lee did not understand and running her hands over the trunks of certain trees – all elder trees, he realised. She caught him looking and explained that she was casting a spell to conceal their route through the woods. The elder trees had long been friends to the witches. She said no more, but Lee made a mental note to ask about this connection when he was less preoccupied.

At long last, the bluffs concealing the wolves’ den loomed into view, a denser darkness against the backdrop of the night. Lee heaved a secret sigh of relief – which turned to consternation as Iorek collapsed, his endurance at an end.

‘Hang on, old fellow,’ he said, placing a hand on Iorek’s uninjured shoulder. A moment later, something – someone – came bolting out of the tunnel. It was Lyra, human, Pantalaimon as a fox beside her.

‘Mr Scoresby!’ she called. ‘And Iorek – oh!’ she cried, skidding to a halt as she saw his wounded leg. His paw was grotesquely swollen and there were ugly black streaks showing through his white fur. The wound from where the stinger had inserted the poison was red, raw and weeping some foul yellow pus.

‘Ma’am? Can you do anything?’ Lee asked Serafina Pekkala.

‘I can prepare a poultice to draw out the poison, but it will take time to prepare. Time, I suspect Iorek Byrnison does not have,’ she answered. As she spoke, her daemon came flying down to land beside her.

‘Lyra, you told us wolfwalkers have healing magic,’ Kasia said. ‘It is Iorek’s only chance now. He is in serious danger of losing that limb.’

Lee flinched inwardly. A missing leg was a death sentence for a _panserbjørn._ Iorek would be unable to hunt, unable to fight… his only option would be a wretched life hanging around towns in the Arctic, doing odd jobs for whatever scraps humans deigned to throw him. A quick death would be preferable.

‘Lyra?’ he said gently, seeing her hesitate. ‘If you can help Iorek, you must.’

‘I – I’ve never healed anything this bad before,’ she confessed, her fingers playing with the buttons on her coat. ‘I’m not sure if I’m strong enough.’

‘Help her, Lee!’ said Hester.

Both Lee and Lyra turned to stare at his daemon.

‘You’re a wolfwalker, same as Lyra,’ she continued. ‘Stands to reason you’ve got the same magic. Give her a hand.’

‘She’s right!’ gasped Lyra.

‘Yeah, but I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do!’ Lee exclaimed, uncertain in his turn.

‘I’ll tell you what to do,’ said Lyra. ‘I’d struggle by myself, but together…’

Iorek lifted his head to peer blearily at Lee.

‘Please, Lee,’ he murmured. That made Lee’s mind up for him.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Lyra, you take the lead. Tell me what I’m doing here.’

She nodded and grabbed hold of his hand, drawing him to kneel by Iorek’s injured leg.

‘Iorek,’ she murmured. ‘Iorek, my dear, we’re going to have to touch your leg. Brace yourself.’

She waited a moment, and then placed her and Lee’s hands atop the already festering wound. Iorek shuddered and groaned, but then lay still. Lee, not by nature a squeamish man, squirmed at the vile-smelling pus squelching beneath his fingers, but didn’t pull away.

‘Mr Scoresby,’ Lyra continued, mercifully diverting his attention. ‘You got to listen carefully. This isn’t the same as when we ask the wolves to do something – just by thinking about it. First, we’ve got to summon our magic, whatever it is inside that makes us wolfwalkers. Close your eyes.’

Lee did as she said.

‘Now, we need to think about what it’s like to be a wolf. When we’re wolves in the forest. Remember how it made you feel, everything you can do – how strong you are, how fast, how all your senses are sharper…’

For a moment Lee wrestled with his awareness of everything surrounding him. He was a man who couldn’t afford to suffer a lapse in concentration. Flying, fighting, negotiating – his very survival depended on his keenness, his alertness. And his friend was in pain, lying prone before him…

But Lyra’s words conjured feelings, memories. The ground beneath his paws: cool stone, crumbled rich-scented earth, crackling leaves. Running, faster than any man ever could, the landscape flowing away in a blur, the air swirling over and around him. The thrill, the ferocious joy of the hunt, the salty blood and meat he’d consumed on that first unforgettable night…the pack, their affection and protection…the adventures he’d had when he went forth as a wolf, the ones he was going to have…keeping one eye on Lyra, mischievous scrap that she was…the other eye for Hester and her guidance…

‘I feel it,’ he murmured.

‘Feels good doesn’t it? It feels right.’

‘It sure does.’

‘We’re doing a balancing act, my father says. Half human and half wolf. Half wild and half civilized. Remember what it’s like to be wolf but remember you’re a human too. All the things that make you a man, think of them, too. At the same time. Find your balance.’

‘I remember,’ said Hester softly. ‘You’re an aeronaut. Remember flying across the North? The cold winds, the sky – so much sky. When we flew over Nova Zembla two years ago we saw the aurora making shapes in the sky, like a city or a great mountain. And when the sun was coming up, we couldn’t tell where the earth ended, and the sky began. You like a shot of whisky at the end of a hard day. We thought I was a jackrabbit till you were twenty-four and we learned I was an Arctic hare. You hate fighting and you’re damn good at it. You’ve never been able to walk away from someone who needs help and you’ve never learned to keep your mouth shut…’

‘Thanks, Hester.’

‘Anytime.’

Lyra giggled softly.

‘Think of them both,’ she carried on valiantly. ‘You’re both of them. Neither one nor the other and both at the same time.’

‘Okay...’

‘And now we have to think of that balance, that rightness, and we have to pass it into Iorek. Hold it in your thoughts and your heart, and then let it pass down your arm and into his wound and heal it. I’ll do it first…’

Lee still had his eyes closed where he was kneeling beside Iorek, but he could _feel_ Lyra’s magic – that rising warmth, an ember glowing hotter and hotter, shimmering golden – passing into the wound Iorek had suffered…

And then he felt something rising in himself. What made him a man, what made him a wolf, what they shared, what was different, its beauty and rightness, and it flowed up from his core and along his arm and into Iorek…

He heard Hester gasp, a soft exclamation from Kasia, Pantalaimon shuffling. Had he but known it, the golden tendrils of light that Lyra had evoked when she healed his arm were furling and twining about their joined hands, rising higher, swaying as if to music, and then they coalesced into the shape of two wolves, who prowled the air and paced in a circle before they curled against each other and then leapt upwards and down in a graceful dive towards Lee and Lyra’s hands, where they dissolved in a fountain of gilded sparks.

Lee felt cold settle on his skin, felt his arms quiver with tension. Underneath his hand, Iorek stirred.

He opened his eyes at last, looked at Iorek’s leg. It was no longer swollen, and the black streaks were gone. Lyra pulled their hands away. The wound was scabbed over, still red and sore but healing. Iorek grunted and managed to sit up, testing the leg carefully before resting his weight upon it.

‘Thank you, Lyra,’ he said. ‘And thank you, Lee.’

Weariness washed over Lee in a wave, and he fell backwards and lay on the ground, laughing a little at the sheer strangeness and wonder of it all. Hester came to him and pressed herself against his arm, and he managed to raise it and tickle her under her chin with his clean hand.

Lyra loomed over him a moment later.

‘You’ll be fine in a few minutes,’ she said, stumbling slightly over the words. ‘Healing takes it out of you when you’re not used to it.’

‘I shall go and heat up your supper,’ said Serafina, and Lee turned his head to see her approaching the tunnel entrance, Kasia at her heels. She paused before she entered and glanced back at him and Lyra with an odd smile on her face.

‘That was a privilege to witness, Lyra, Mr Scoresby,’ she said, and vanished into the den.

‘What did she mean?’ Lyra asked, baffled.

‘I’ll tell you all about it later,’ said Pantalaimon, turning into a magpie and hopping round her in a near-frenzy. ‘But before that, we’ve got great news! I tried to tell you earlier, but you wouldn’t listen.’

‘I had other things to think about, Pan,’ Lyra muttered.

‘Such as running off and getting yourself caught by hunters?’ Iorek grumbled, standing up and fixing her with a dark glare. ‘You are a cub, Lyra, and all cubs make mistakes, but you were unforgivably foolish tonight.’

Lyra winced and stared at the ground. Lee, hearing this, managed to prop himself up on his elbows and regard her. She was a picture of dejection: head hanging, eyes red and swollen from crying. But the stubborn set of her mouth suggested she wasn’t entirely beaten.

‘I’m sorry, Iorek,’ she muttered. Her voice was sullen but there was no insincerity in it. ‘I know it was stupid, and it got you hurt. I just – I’m sorry, all right?’

Iorek harrumphed. Lee said nothing. The bear had a right to be angry with Lyra, considering what her rescue had almost cost him. Yet Lee had a feeling Iorek wasn’t so much angry as trying to get her to acknowledge her mistakes.

‘What about _you_?’ Lyra asked. It took Lee a moment to realise that Lyra was speaking to him. He looked at her and quirked a questioning eyebrow. Lyra was abashed, face flushed pink, but she met his eyes squarely.

‘You should be yelling at me,’ she murmured.

‘I know I should,’ Lee sighed. ‘But I haven’t got the energy.’

He shoved himself into a sitting position, grabbed some dry leaves to wipe the pus from his hand, and regarded her.

‘Lyra, honey, if you want to do dumb things and risk your life, there ain’t a great deal I can do to stop you,’ he said gently, though the admission cost him dearly. ‘But when other people get hurt because of it, then I gotta tell you, that ain’t fair on them. Doesn’t matter whether you meant it to happen or not.’

‘You didn’t have to come for me,’ Lyra began. She didn’t speak defiantly, but the words cut Lee deep.

‘You’re an ungrateful brat, you know that?’ he asked with sudden harshness. ‘Iorek pledged his support to you. He’s honour-bound to help you, and lemme tell you, the _panserbjørne_ take promises seriously. He had no choice. Neither did I. You’re under my care. So, if you’re gonna get us killed, make sure it’s for something worthwhile, will you?’

Lyra’s face was drained of blood by the time Lee finished speaking. She stared at the ground, hugging herself. Pantalaimon’s form had shifted into that of a puppy, a timid little creature with tail tucked between his legs.

‘Ah, hell,’ muttered Lee as he saw how shaken she was. ‘Lyra, honey, I know that was a tough thing to hear. But…seeing you in that cage just about drove me mad. I don’t know how I hung onto my temper. There’s enough risk in this enterprise without you adding to it. You may be a wolfwalker, but that ain’t reason enough to lose control every time you get upset. You aren’t a beast.’

‘That man said we were beasts,’ Lyra murmured. Beside Lee, Hester winced, and Lee knew she was remembering her unthinking words from a couple of nights ago. He leaned over, scooped her up with gentle hands and held her close to show all was forgiven.

‘That man’s a deluded moron,’ Lee said firmly, as Hester burrowed against him, her little heart thumping against his larger one. ‘He thinks he’s doing God’s work, but what he’s doing is causing death and destruction while dressing it up in pretty words like _duty_ and _crusade._ He doesn’t know anything about wolfwalkers really are. Ignore him.’

Lyra didn’t respond at once, playing with the buttons on her coat again.

‘But is that why you want to give it up?’ she asked after a few moment’s thought. ‘Why your daemon doesn’t like it?’

Pantalaimon heaved a sigh.

‘Ah, yeah,’ Lee realised. ‘Look, Lyra, about that –’

‘Lee’s staying a wolfwalker,’ Hester interrupted, turning to look Lyra in the eye. ‘We came to an understanding, me and him. It was nothing to do with him being a beast, Lyra. I was wrong to ever call him that. It was me struggling with it, but no more. I guess I’ve found my own balance.’

‘That’s what I’ve tried to tell you five times now,’ grumbled Pantalaimon. Hester jumped down from Lee’s arms and nuzzled him sympathetically.

Lyra’s jaw dropped.

‘Truly?’ she breathed. ‘Really and truly?’

‘Yeah, I’m staying as I am,’ said Lee. ‘Hester and me had a long overdue talk. I owe you an apology, Lyra. If we’d done the talking bit earlier, we probably could’ve avoided everything that happened tonight –’

Lee got cut off as Lyra flung her arms around his neck. He smiled and hugged her back. Pantalaimon turned into a cat and twined his way around Hester, who tutted but pawed at him affectionately.

‘So, you see,’ he said, pulling back so he could look Lyra in the face. ‘We’re staying pack, Lyra, and if something happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do. You hearing me?’

‘I do,’ she nodded. ‘I feel the same way. The pack has to stay together.’

‘Quite right,’ said Iorek, making them both jump. The bear huffed a laugh, and sat back down, making himself comfortable.

‘Let me rest, and I shall be good as new coming morning,’ he murmured. ‘I suggest you both do the same.’

‘After dinner – though it’s probably closer to breakfast now,’ remarked Lee as he let go of Lyra and hauled himself to his feet. ‘Come on, Lyra, let’s get some stew. My belly thinks my throat’s been cut.’

Lyra grinned and scampered off towards the tunnel, Pantalaimon lolloping behind her.

‘You’ve acquired a cub, Lee,’ pronounced Iorek as she vanished into the entrance.

‘Only till we rescue her father, Iorek,’ Lee answered as he followed Lyra. He didn’t see Hester rolling her eyes at the armoured bear, nor the oddly human grin on Iorek’s bearish face.

###

It wasn’t as late as Lee had thought, but it was late enough that both he and Lyra were ravenous. The stew, despite being a tad overcooked, vanished in minutes, as did the biscuits Lyra had been saving for a special occasion.

The wolves all returned to the den over the course of the evening, having successfully hidden from the hunters and returned when it was safe to do so. Lyra had a word with Nose-scar and Rattail and learned the Magisterium forces had all left the woods.

‘We’ll have to assume they’ll be back,’ said Lee. ‘We need to talk to the Gyptians and rescue Asriel as soon as possible. It’s going to be too dangerous to stay in the woods with Danvers and his troops after us.’

He regarded the wolves, who were resting in various attitudes around the den.

‘Lyra, does your father have a back-up plan for the pack? Somewhere for them to go if it gets too risky in Badbury Forest?’ he asked.

Lyra nodded an affirmation, as Lee had hoped she would.

‘He told me about it not long after I came to live with him,’ she said. ‘There’s a route out of the forest and through the countryside, up to the Lake Country. Lots of woodland, plenty of prey. That will be our new home if we need it.’

‘Good,’ said Lee. ‘I have a feeling they’ll be needing it. After tonight, the Magisterium’s going to be crawling all over the forest like cliff-ghasts.’

‘What do you intend to do?’ queried Serafina.

‘Get Lyra’s father out of Jordan,’ Lee answered. ‘Make sure the pack has somewhere to go. And once Asriel’s free and the wolves are safe, we run. As far from here as possible.’

‘To the North?’ Lyra asked, a hopeful note in her voice.

‘Probably,’ Lee said, smiling a little. ‘I have my balloon – assuming it’s still safely hidden. There’s plenty of room for three people and old Iorek out there. Well, not plenty, but enough.’

‘I am glad to hear it,’ rumbled Iorek from outside the den.

Everyone smiled at that.

‘I will stay and assist in rescuing Lyra’s father,’ Serafina Pekkala said. ‘And help you with your return to the North, should it be needed.’

Lee didn’t quibble. Serafina Pekkala had seen the risks involved and would not offer her help if she wasn’t willing to see it through to the end.

‘I’d appreciate that, ma’am,’ he answered. ‘We need all the allies we can get. Speaking of which, first thing tomorrow, I’m going to speak to Iorek’s Gyptians. See if they’ll agree to lend us a boat and someone to steer it. My plan is to get into Jordan via the underground river. Iorek can bust through any walls down there, and then we can get into the lab and get Asriel, thanks to Van Buskirk.’

‘It’s gonna be dangerous,’ murmured Hester.

‘So, what else is new?’ drawled Lee. Hester shook her ears at him.

‘I approve,’ said Serafina Pekkala. ‘But for now, I suggest we sleep. I shall fly above the forest before I do so, and make sure all is quiet. If you go forth as wolves, you needn’t fear any attack.’

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ said Lee. Serafina Pekkala stood and swept up her cloud-pine in one graceful motion, and then jumped into the air and was gone.

‘She’s wonderful,’ said Lyra, gazing after her, eyes wide and aglow.

‘That she is,’ agreed Lee, scattering dirt over the fire and then turning to unroll his sleeping pack. ‘Come on, kid, let’s get some shut-eye. Gonna be a long day tomorrow.’

Lyra nodded.

‘Mr Scoresby?’ she said, sounding so atypically uncertain that Lee paused to stare at her. ‘Thank you. For everything. Not just rescuing me tonight, but – everything. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had. As good as Roger. I’m glad I found you.’

Lee’s answering smile felt as if it would crack his face, it was so wide.

‘Thanks, kid,’ he said, with only a touch of gruffness. ‘I’m damned glad I found you too. A man doesn’t get many friends in his life, and I reckon you’re a good one to have. Now, sleep well.’

Lyra ducked behind the curtain to her bedchamber without another word. Pantalaimon followed her in the form of an ermine. Lee, feeling wrung-out and dull-witted, climbed into his sleeping pack and closed his eyes. He felt Hester leap onto his chest and her familiar reassuring weight above his heart, and placed his hand atop her rangy form, joyous beyond words that they were reconciled.

‘Iorek was right,’ whispered Hester. ‘You’ve got a cub.’

‘Don’t you start.’

‘Fine, I’ll stay mum. But it doesn’t make it any less true.’

‘Lyra’s got a father, Hester, and our job is to get him back for her. I’m the interloper here. I can’t be a father to her, too.’

‘Seems to me you already are.’

‘Don’t be daffy, Hester. I’m a stand-in. Besides, even if the job fell to me, I’d be a lousy father. I’m a jack-of-all-trades aeronaut who never stops in one place too long and who gets himself thrown out of two bars in three. That’s no life for a kid.’

‘A man can change his life. Besides, you love her.’

‘Her father loves her, too.’

‘I ain’t too sure about that,’ said Hester, so softly than even Lee’s newly acute ears strained to make out the words.

‘Course he does, Hester. How could he not?’

‘You know better than that, Lee.’ 

A hush descended, and they lay still.

‘I ain’t stepping into those shoes, Hester, no matter what everyone thinks,’ Lee whispered at last. ‘I don’t know how to do that job. Never had much of an example in that regard.’

‘Well, you know what not to do. ‘Sides, this ain’t just up to you. Lyra’s hungry for love, I can tell. _And_ she thinks you hung the moon and the stars. She ain’t gonna just let you go when all this is over.’

Lee, his thoughts set a-whirling by Hester’s words, tried to articulate what it was he thinking, what he was feeling, but as he lay there, he felt sleep creeping up on him. He tried to resist it, to remain awake, but it was like standing on the beach while the tide was coming in. There was no stopping it. He’d been a man all day and now the wolfish part of him was trying to wake, to break out and run and hunt.

Lee felt himself drawn into slumber. And moments later, he pulled himself free of his sleeping form as smoothly and easily as if he were surfacing from a long dive and was a wolf.

Hester hopped off the man curled up in the sleeping pack and came to stand beside Lee-as-wolf.

‘We going out tonight?’ she asked.

_Yeah, but we’d better not go far,_ Lee answered her. _We’ll just go for a run through the woods. Let’s see if Lyra –_

Even as he spoke, the small golden wolf emerged from Lyra’s sleeping cave, Pantalaimon just behind her, also in the form of a wolf.

_Speak of the Devil,_ remarked Lee. _Evening, Lyra. Hester and me, were just discussing what we’re going to do tonight. Serafina Pekkala has checked the woods for danger, and we were thinking we’d go out into them. As a pack, Lyra – no more solo expeditions._

_Sounds good,_ said Lyra. _The pack had better hunt while they have the chance._

_Hunting? Do you never do anything just for fun while you’re a wolf?_

_What like?_

By way of answer, Lee darted forward, nipped her on the ear and raced for the tunnel entrance, Hester darting ahead of him.

_Hey! Not fair! Come back, Mr Scoresby!_

_Not a chance, kid! You’ll have to catch me!_

‘After them, Lyra!’ cried Pan.

The wolves, the black and the golden and the reddish one that was Pantalaimon, went racing past Iorek Bynison, who was roused just in time to see them vanish amongst the trees – followed by a procession of eight wild wolves, who came charging past him only to disappear like smoke drifting on the wind as they fled into the night.

Lee led Lyra a merry chase through the trees. He was bigger and long-legged and therefore faster, but Lyra was agile and besides, was an expert wolfwalker compared to Lee. So, they darted in-between ash and oak, leapt over fallen logs, hid behind clumps of brambles. Until finally Lee took a wrong turning and found his progress checked by a high bank of earth too steep to climb and Lyra jumped on him, nipping at his ears without mercy.

_Hey! Go easy on an old man!_

_You started it!_

‘She’s got a point, Lee. Can’t we have one adventure where you get to keep your ears?’

_We’ve had plenty and my ears came through intact!_

‘More than I can say for your dignity.’

_Oh yeah? What about that time we had to hide in that warehouse in Upernavik, and you jumped in the barrel of molasses?_

‘I thought we agreed never to talk about that!’

Lyra had to leave off trying to bite Lee’s ears because she was laughing too hard. Pantalaimon was in fits of giggles too. The pack had caught up with them by this point and were standing around, tails wagging as they shared in the merriment. Towser did a few tumbles in the undergrowth, distracting the young wolves, who began their own game of tag after he leaped up and pinched Acorn’s shoulder with his teeth.

_They’ll play all night, now,_ said Lyra, laughter subsiding. _They might break off to hunt rabbits when they get hungry, but tonight’s for having fun._

_Good idea,_ said Lee. _There’s going to be danger ahead. They should enjoy themselves while they can._

They watched the wolves cavorting for a few minutes, chuckling when White-paw cornered Towser, only to be confounded when the omega leapt clear over the bigger wolf and ran to hide amongst the trees.

_There’s somewhere I want to take a look at,_ Lyra said, apropos of nothing. _Will you come with me?_

_Sure, kid. Lead on._

They broke away from the pack and Lyra led the way through the woods, into a part of them Lee hadn’t seen before. The trees were older, more gnarled and twisty than the ones round the den, and there were no dirt paths bisecting through the undergrowth. But Lyra moved confidently through the forest, until the rising murmurings of the wind alerted Lee to a gap in the trees up head.

Lyra walked onwards until, abruptly, the woods came to an end and the view opened up onto a cliff-edge. The two wolfwalkers stood at its peak, the cliffs sloping down on either side. It was not a particularly high escarpment – Lee guessed its height to be around eighty feet – but the view was something special. Below them, the forest rustled and swayed and sheltered, its greens and browns dyed to their darkest shades so even their wolfish sight could perceive the colours. Its edges blurred by shadows while above them, an arch of stars rose glittering against the dark blue of the sky. In the distance, the city of Oxford glowed golden, almost the same shade as Lyra’s fur.

‘Quite a view,’ whistled Hester, with typical understatement.

_It’s stunning, kid_ , said Lee. Lyra’s ears and tail drooped a little.

_This is my favourite view of Oxford,_ she told Lee. _I found it not long after Father brought me to live in the forest. When he was busy, I’d come up here with Pan and we’d try and guess what everyone we knew was doing. The Master will be in his study, working on his latest research or doing boring stuff like organising receptions for visiting scholars. Mrs Lonsdale will be going over accounts, unless she’s having dinner at the Trout Inn. Roger will be climbing out of his window to go and play with the kids from Somerville. Bernie will be having a beer in the Turf Tavern – only the one, he has to get up early in the mornings. Dr Van Buskirk will be working, waiting for us to rescue my father so’s he can be free of the Council…_

Lyra’s voice faded away. Lee stood beside her, regarding her rather than the beautiful view.

_I’m never going to be able to go back, am I?_ Lyra asked him wistfully.

_Not for a long time, Lyra,_ Lee said. They’d been through too much together, owed each other too much for him to patronise her with platitudes. _Danvers and the Council will be after me and Iorek now. And they’ll never stop hunting for wolfwalkers. We’ll have to run. Perhaps not forever – perhaps someday you’ll be able to come back and visit. But the life you had at Jordan… no, that ain’t coming back._

Another silence descended. Hester crept over to where Pantalaimon was standing and pressed herself against his foreleg as she often did with Lee, offering what little comfort she could. 

_What will we do, then? After we’ve rescued my father?_ Lyra asked. _Where will we go?_

_We’ll head North, kid, like I said. It’s a wild place, but the authorities aren’t as strong as down here. The Magisterium doesn’t have as much presence because of the armoured bears and the witches. We’ll head up there and hide out. There’s always plenty of work for an aeronaut. And your pa sounds like a smart guy. He’ll be able to find something to do._

Lyra’s ears perked up and her eyes glittered.

_We’ll go on adventures in the North, all three of us,_ she suggested, and Lee could sense her excitement rising. _We can visit the bears and witches and make discoveries – go to places no-one has ever been before! I bet we’d be amazing explorers – we can be human explorers during the day and wolves at night. And we’ll fight off bandits and cannibals and search for gold in Beringland…_

_You can fend off the bandits and cannibals, thanks very much,_ chuckled Lee. _I plan to stay safe in my balloon._

‘Prospecting for gold’s not a bad idea,’ murmured Hester. ‘We’ve not tried that before. We can head up to the mines in Beringland and lay low for a few months.’

_But before we do any of that, we’ll head to Bolvangar with Iorek and help the armoured bears,_ Lee interrupted. _We’ll be safe among the bears – safe enough anyways – and I owe Iorek my help as his friend._

_It’ll be brilliant,_ said Lyra, nuzzling against Lee. He smiled inwardly.

_It’ll be tough, kid, I won’t lie to you. But you strike me as even tougher. We’ll be fine. Hopefully, we can get your father tomorrow night or the night after, and then we’ll take off for the North. We could be in the air in forty-eight hours._

_I’ve never flown before. Not even in a zeppelin._

_No? We’ll soon remedy that. Make a proper pilot out of you. Have you got a head for heights?_

_Yes, I used to climb all over the roofs at Jordan._

_Why doesn’t that surprise me?_

Lyra left off nuzzling him and settled herself on the escarpment, gazing out over Oxford.

_How did you become an aeronaut?_ She asked him. Lee lay down, head on his paws, and stared out over the city in his turn, remembering.

_Simple. I won the balloon in a poker game when I was twenty-four. Guy I won it off threw in a book on how to fly it – well, half of one. The other half was missing. Been flying ever since._

_Oh._

_Guess you were hoping for something more exciting? Well, six months later I met Iorek for the first time. You want to hear about that?_

_Oh, yes! Tell me!_

_Say ‘please’ and I’ll think about it._

_Please!_

_Okay, kid. Six months later I flew into a place called Novy Odense –_

‘And nearly got us killed landing. I got dumped on my head and I still don’t know how you managed to avoid those gas tanks.’

_Hush up Hester, I’m telling this story. We flew into a place called Novy Odense, looking for work, and I met this economist –_

‘No, Lee, we met that loony poet first, remember?’

_Right, right, the poet. So, we flew into Novy Odense, looking for work, and I was in this bar…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The imagery from the healing sequence is taken from the film Wolfwalkers (2020). Take a look if you can, it's absolutely gorgeous.
> 
> All the details about Lee's winning his balloon and meeting Iorek are taken from Philip Pullman's wonderful short story 'Once Upon a Time in the North.'
> 
> Think of this as the calm before the storm, we're shifting into high gear from the next chapter onwards! Till next time, dear readers...


	16. The Gyptians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee and Lyra seek out some new allies in their quest to rescue Asriel.

Morning came early, as it always did. Lee and Lyra headed back to the den before first light, flowing back into themselves with ease. Lee awoke shortly after dawn, back in his human skin. Hester was curled up in his arms, the pack had returned and were resting, Iorek was snoozing outside, Serafina and Kasia were somewhere about their business and Lyra and Pan were in their sleeping-cave. All was well.

Lee lay there longer than was his wont, savouring a rare moment of peace. He sensed it might be his last for a long, long time. Hester snuggled against him, sharing in the feeling.

But as the morning light brightened from grey to gold, Lee knew it was time to make a move. Today, they would speak to the Gyptians, see if they could hire a boat and someone crazy enough to take them beneath Jordan and back out for their rescue mission. Lee wondered how much they’d demand in payment. More than he had on him, that was for certain. He’d have to see if Lyra’s father had money stashed away somewhere. It wasn’t strictly honourable to help yourself to another man’s money while he was asleep, but given the circumstances…

He forced himself out of bed to wash and brew coffee, before ducking outside the den for a quick chat with Iorek. The great bear was none the worse for his ordeal. His wound was healing quickly and although Lee suspected it would scar, Iorek was untroubled by this. The _panserbjørne_ wore their scars with pride, as emblems of battles won, and enemies defeated.

‘Lee,’ said Iorek just before the aeronaut headed back inside the den to prepare breakfast. ‘I have a message from Serafina Pekkala. She has gone to speak to the Gyptians on your behalf.’

Lee paused, surprised by the news. He was unbothered by witches, having encountered them several times in the wilds of the North. Hell, one had even taken him as her lover when he’d been younger and stupider. But few people who lived south of the Arctic Circle were familiar with witches. Most would be afraid of them, and the Magisterium condemned them as temptresses and evil sorcerers.

‘It seems Serafina is acquainted with one of the Gyptians,’ Iorek told him, seeing him taken aback. ‘She met him some forty years ago. She has not spoken to him in many years, she said, but she is confident he will assist us.’

Lee wasn’t so sure – forty years was a long time for a man, though not for a witch – but he knew, better than most, how compelling the friendship or the love of a witch could be. He nodded to Iorek and went to start breakfast.

Lyra was up shortly afterwards, tempted out by the smell of toasting bread, and Lee told her about Serafina’s going to the Gyptians. They concurred it was best to wait for her to return and see what she had to say, and so settled in for a morning in the den. Lee, after poking about in one of the supply caves in search of reading material or some diversion, came across an old chessboard and various gaming pieces, and suggested a game of Checkers. Lyra had never even heard of this, and so the morning passed with her learning the rules and making quite extraordinary progress, beating Lee in only their third game.

‘Kid’s got talent,’ pronounced Hester. ‘Took you weeks to learn that much strategy.’

‘I saved my brain-power for poker,’ Lee retorted.

‘I wish you’d save some of it for everyday – look alive, I think Serafina Pekkala’s back.’

Lee and Lyra looked up from their latest game just in time to see Serafina land silently in the glade, Kasia swooping down a moment later.

‘I have been to speak to the Gyptians,’ she announced without preamble. ‘I told them as little as possible, only that you wish to rescue a comrade from Jordan College and that such an endeavour will be dangerous. They are willing to meet with you, Mr Scoresby, to discuss this rescue you have planned. There is a Gyptian boat waiting at St John’s Lock, just before the White Horse River forks off from the Isis.’

‘Much appreciated, ma’am,’ Lee said, rising to his feet. ‘Lyra, you know where that is? Good, let’s get going.’

‘Before you leave,’ Serafina said, arresting their progress. ‘I would advise you to be honest with the Gyptians. I suggest you explain about being wolfwalkers and your connection with Asriel.’

That gave Lee pause. He glanced over at Lyra and saw her looking dubious.

‘My father always said we were never to tell anyone,’ she said to Serafina. ‘It’s too dangerous. I shouldn’t have told Mr Scoresby, before I knew he was a wolfwalker, only… well, I had a feeling about him.’

‘She’s got a point,’ Lee said to Serafina. ‘The more people know about us, the riskier it is.’

‘I understand,’ Serafina nodded. ‘And in other circumstances, I would advise you to keep your gifts secret. But you will need allies – not just for this rescue attempt, but for afterwards. When you go out into the world as wolfwalkers. There are forces that seek to subdue you, or worse, exploit you. Having friends to call on in such times would be invaluable.’

Lyra’s expression shifted from sceptical to thoughtful. Pantalaimon turned into a starling and flew up to perch on her shoulder.

‘It’s a good idea, Lyra,’ he said.

‘Depends on who we tell,’ Hester murmured. ‘Gyptians are the same as everyone else – some will be trustworthy folk, others will be devious beggars. We’ll have to choose carefully.’

‘Who would you have us tell, ma’am?’ Lee enquired of Serafina.

‘Coram Van Texel,’ she said at once. ‘I have known him for decades, and he is the finest of men. And John Faa, lord of the Western Gyptians. He is an honourable man. A fierce warrior.’

Lee turned to Lyra.

‘It’s your call, kid,’ he said. ‘I made you that promise, to keep quiet unless you give say so, and I’m sticking to it.’

He wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do, wasn’t sure it was right to lay the burden of deciding upon Lyra, but Lee kept his promises, come hell or high water. He was relieved to see her consider the matter for a moment, quite composed, before she nodded to him and Serafina.

‘If Serafina Pekkala thinks they can be trusted, then I’ll trust them as well,’ she said. ‘But only Coram Van Texel and Lord Faa. No-one else. Specially not Tony Costa or Ma Costa.’

Lee quirked a sardonic eyebrow at the final stipulation. Lyra hunched her shoulders and stared at the ground.

‘Lyra stole their narrowboat,’ Pantalaimon piped up helpfully.

‘It wasn’t just me,’ Lyra muttered.

‘It was your idea!’

‘Maybe they’ll be willing to live and let live,’ interrupted Lee, who sensed an old unwinnable argument was gaining traction. ‘Come on, Lyra, let’s go and speak with the Gyptians and see what they have to say. We’d better take Iorek too. Getting him out of the forest will be for the best, now the Council’s after him. Ma’am, will you be coming with us?’

‘I will,’ said Serafina. Lee smiled his thanks, and strode towards the tunnel, glad to be finally setting his rough plan to rescue Asriel in motion.

###

The journey to St John’s Lock was a five-mile walk. The distance didn’t trouble any of them but trying to cover it discreetly with a _panserbjørn_ was a nerve-jangling endeavour. Fortunately, it began raining as they left the forest, a light dull drizzle that deterred most ramblers. Lyra went on ahead, with Pantalaimon in the form of a hawk to spy out rubber-neckers and gawkers. Serafina and Iorek strolled along together, with Lee and Hester bringing up the rear and keeping a weather eye out for trouble.

Despite a few hairy moments when they encountered passers-by (and one rather farcical moment when Lyra pretended she was being bitten by an adder to distract a nosy farmhand and her cockerel daemon from the armoured bear creeping behind them) they accomplished the trip successfully. They climbed over a stile (or stepped over it, in Iorek’s case) and St John’s Lock loomed into view through the misty rain, the mighty water-gates dark and slippery. Gyptian narrowboats lined up along both sides of the river, and Gyptians tended to their boats, or stoked fires on the riverbank or stood around chatting.

The presence of their motley band on the bank halted all mundane activity, however. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared, more at Iorek and Serafina Pekkala than Lee and Lyra. People leaned over to whisper to their nearest neighbour, and one or two clutched at amulets or good-luck charms worn on necklaces or pinned to their coats.

Lee saw their suspicion and anxiety and stepped forward.

‘Morning all,’ he said, tipping his hat to the nearest group of Gyptians. ‘We’re looking for Lord Faa and Coram Van Texel.’

A chiselled-featured man with a grey heron for a daemon stepped forward and stared at Lee with assessing ice blue eyes. Lee had the uncanny impression that the man could see straight through him, through cloth and flesh and blood, right down to his skeleton. He held firm and stared back.

‘Why do you wish to see them?’ the man asked after a moment.

‘I’m afraid that’s private business,’ Lee answered. ‘But rest assured, we ain’t here to cause trouble.’

The man looked at Lee for a few seconds more, then turned to his companion, a gangly boy with a wolfhound daemon. The kid couldn’t have been more than fourteen; his daemon must have settled very recently. The tall man whispered in his ear, and the boy nodded and set off down the riverbank.

‘We’ll tell Lord Faa you’re here,’ the man said. ‘Whether he speaks to you is up to him.’

That was fair enough. Lee nodded assent and waited. Serafina Pekkala came to stand beside him, and the Gyptians all stepped back a pace. Lyra, grinning at their nervousness, came forward as well, holding onto Lee’s arm in familiar fashion.

It was then that Lee noticed a dark-haired young man with a hawk daemon gazing raptly at him and Lyra.

He recognised Tony Costa, one of the Gyptians they had rescued the night before last. Tony’s gaze was a mixture of suspicion and awe, and Lee felt his shoulders tense, as if someone had trained a gun at his back. He felt Hester shiver next to him and bent to pick her up and hold her close. Tony stared hard at Hester too, and Lee turned aside slightly to shield her.

Lyra noticed Tony as well and huddled close to Lee. Her movement attracted Tony’s attention, and he glanced at her. His jaw dropped in astonishment.

‘Lyra? Lyra Belacqua?’ he cried. Lyra winced.

Some of the other Gyptians started, and Lee readied himself for a confrontation. But a moment later he realised it was unnecessary. The Gyptians ranged around Tony were all smirking or outright laughing – even the sharp-faced, serious man with the heron-daemon.

‘So, this is the ruthless pirate who boarded your boat a year back?’ chortled one plump man with a ringed plover daemon. ‘She looks fearsome, Tony! You’d best watch out!’

Tony rubbed at the back of his head, his intensity turned to sheepishness, while Lyra tried her best to look innocent. Everyone – including Iorek and Serafina – laughed. The mood lightened immediately, and the man with the plover daemon stepped over to where he was brewing tea, to take the kettle off the fire and offer it to the human visitors.

Lee, Lyra and Serafina all accepted the tea, brewed Gyptian-fashion with rosehips and blackcurrants and served without milk. They had just finished a mugful apiece when two men came striding towards them. Well, one was striding, head held high, his hooded crow daemon perched upon his shoulder. The other, despite being a tall, broad man, walked softly and with his head down, as if afraid to take up too much space in the world. Nonetheless his daemon, a cat with extraordinary red-gold fur, walked proudly at his side, her yellow eyes unblinking.

‘Lee Scoresby and Lyra Belacqua,’ said the shorter man as he approached. It was a statement, and not a question.

‘Lord Faa,’ nodded Lee. The man’s air of authority was unmistakeable. Lord Faa extended his hand for Lee to shake, and Lee did so. Faa’s grip was firm, but Lee sensed he was holding back a great deal of strength. This was a man not to be trifled with. As they drew apart, however, Lee saw Faa looking at him with cool approval, as if he had passed some kind of test.

‘This is Farder Coram,’ said Faa, gesturing towards his companion. ‘Serafina Pekkala has told us about you. We’re very glad to meet you.’

He turned to look at Lyra then, and smiled warmly.

‘And we’re _very_ glad to see you again, Lyra – your piracy notwithstanding,’ Lord Faa told her. Farder Coram smiled at her too.

‘I weren’t really going to pull the bung out,’ Lyra muttered. Lee quirked an eyebrow. Lord Faa laughed.

‘Went all over the Fens, that story,’ he remarked. ‘Poor Tony had a rough time of it. Best watch out – fierce little girls round here, Tony, everyone was telling him! But that’s in the past.’

He glanced beyond Lyra and Lee to Serafina Pekkala and Iorek Byrnison.

‘Madam. And Iorek Byrnison, it is good to see you again. Come with me. We have much to discuss, and we shall do it somewhere warm and dry.’

Lord Faa spun round and strode off down the riverbank, and there was nothing for it but to follow. Lee did so, but before he moved off, he saw Farder Coram, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at Serafina. It was a strange melding of love and pain, as if he were gazing upon the sun. It was painful, agony even, yet such was its beauty, he couldn’t look away.

Lee realised at once that Farder Coram loved Serafina Pekkala – and probably had been her lover, many decades ago, when he’d been a young, strong man – and it was breaking his heart, because now he was old and would soon die and Serafina would be young for ages to come.

Lee remembered his own witch-lover, and her premature death, and shivered. He’d loved her and grieved for her and moved on with his life and still thought of her sometimes. The love of a witch was intoxicating, compelling, addictive even. It could consume you.

He felt Hester stir in his arms as they walked onwards.

‘That ain’t you,’ she whispered, so only Lee could hear her. She knew where his thoughts had been drifting, had felt his peculiar dread of something that hadn’t happened. ‘That could never be you.’

‘How’d you know, Hester?’ he murmured back.

‘Cause you gave your witch your heart, Lee, and nothing more. Farder Coram there has given Serafina his soul. You could never do that. You’re a free man. You were born that way.’

‘Was I, huh?’

‘I should know.’

They moved on.

Lord Faa led all of them to a boat larger than the others moored nearby, gorgeously painted in blues and yellows, and led the way up the gangplank. Iorek stepped aboard last of all, and Lee sucked in his breath sharply as the planks of the prow deck groaned under his weight. The deck held firm, however, and the Gyptians seemed unconcerned about the bear’s presence. Lord Faa courteously explained that they wouldn’t be able to host Iorek in the main cabin due to his size, but they would leave the door open and include him in their counsel. Iorek grunted assent and sat down on deck, while Lord Faa and Farder Coram led the way down some steps into the cabin.

Someone was waiting for them, Lee saw at once. It was a woman with a hawk daemon and a face that suggested both toughness and kindness.

‘Ma Costa!’ Lyra exclaimed.

‘Lyra,’ said Ma Costa, and there was real affection in her voice. ‘I was hoping to see you again. Welcome, child.’

Lyra, evidently not expecting such a warm greeting, stood uncertainly, holding Pantalaimon as an ermine in her arms. Ma Costa, undeterred, stepped forward and kissed her on the forehead, before stepping back and cradling Lyra’s face between her palms.

‘You’ve grown a bit,’ she said approvingly. ‘Still a ragamuffin, mind.’

‘I’ve been living in the woods,’ Lyra half-explained. ‘You ent angry about the narrowboat last year? I wouldn’t’ve pulled the bung out, honest.’

Ma Costa grinned.

‘Nah, but we’ll be having words if you do it again,’ she said. ‘Oh, Lyra, it’s good to see you. We’ve been worried about you ever since you left Jordan, and not a word or a visit since.’

‘So how come you were waiting for her, ma’am?’ Lee asked. Had Bernie Johansen been blabbing again? If so, Lee was going to have a serious conversation with him, one that might involve fists.

‘It was just a feeling,’ Ma Costa explained, letting go of Lyra and squaring up to Lee. ‘Serafina Pekkala came to see us this morning, and explained she had some friends who needed our help – an aeronaut and a local girl. She didn’t tell us any more than that, but we thought – hoped – it was Lyra. There aren’t many local girls who’d ask for help from Gyptians, you see, and even fewer who’d know a witch. We know your Uncle Asriel has travelled in the North a lot. It made sense.’

‘Fair enough,’ murmured Lee.

‘And who might you be?’ asked Ma Costa, eyeing him.

‘Lee Scoresby, ma’am, the aeronaut Serafina Pekkala told you of,’ Lee answered, removing his hat. ‘I’m a friend of Lyra’s here.’

‘Where’s Asriel?’ enquired Ma Costa, rather coldly. Her hawk daemon ruffled his feathers up, eyeing Lee as if he were a mouse.

‘Well, he’s in some trouble ma’am,’ Lee informed her. He wasn’t at all discomposed by her suspicious glare or her sceptical questions. He’d be just as leery if he’d found Lyra in the care of a stranger. ‘Which is why we’re here, in fact. He needs rescuing.’

‘Mr Scoresby has been taking excellent care of Lyra in the meantime,’ said Serafina Pekkala. ‘I will vouch for him. He has been a great friend to my clan.’

Ma Costa thawed visibly, and the atmosphere in the cabin changed from being an interrogation space to a home receiving welcome visitors.

‘Everyone, sit,’ Lord Faa said, gesturing at various bunks and cushions. ‘I suspect this conservation will take a while.’

There weren’t enough seats to go around, but Lyra sat on the floor, propping herself against one of Lee’s legs, and Serafina chose to stand by the door. Just as they were all getting settled, there was a scuffling at the opposite end of the boat to where Iorek was waiting, and Tony Costa poked his head into the room.

‘‘Scuse me, Lord Faa, I know this is meant to be a private conversation, but I’d like to be in on it, if I may. I’ve got some information that might be useful,’ he said, voice earnest. His eyes never strayed from Lee and Lyra however, and Lee _knew_ exactly what Tony had on his mind. He leaned over to speak to Lyra quietly.

‘Reckon we can trust him?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, now he’s forgiven me for stealing the narrowboat,’ Lyra whispered back. ‘Tony’s good. He taught me how to skip stones.’

Lee straightened back up.

‘We’ve no objections, Lord Faa, if you haven’t,’ he said. John Faa beckoned Tony into their circle, and Tony came to perch on a countertop. Ma Costa shook her head but didn’t say anything.

Rather to Lee’s surprise, it was Farder Coram who spoke next, not Lord Faa.

‘Serafina Pekkala has told us that you need help rescuing Lord Asriel, that he’s in trouble with the City Council – and by extension, the Magisterium,’ he said, his daemon watching Lee and Lyra through half-closed eyes. ‘And that he’s being held in Jordan College, rather than in a prison or a private residence.’

‘That’s right,’ Lee confirmed.

‘Lord Asriel has long been a friend to the Gyptians,’ Lord Faa said. ‘We’ve been in his debt ever since he helped defeat the Watercourse Bill in Parliament. If we can assist him now, we’d be glad to. But what you’re asking will be a very dangerous undertaking.’

‘I know, and I won’t sugar-coat it,’ answered Lee. ‘If your people decide to help us, they’ll be walking into trouble, and plenty of it. But the people who are holding Asriel captive also kidnapped two Gyptians, to try and blackmail you into doing their bidding. Seems to me you might want to strike back at them, before they can hurt anyone else.’

‘Yeah!’ cried Tony, right hand forming a fist where it lay on his thigh.

Lord Faa smiled slightly at Tony’s enthusiasm.

‘It’s true, we were attacked, and we consider that a provocation,’ he answered. ‘But now our friends are restored to us, taking on the might of the Council and by extension the Magisterium would be foolishness.’

Lyra stirred, ready to protest, but Lee placed a hand on her shoulder, and she settled back down. Ma Costa and her daemon watched this with surprise, and the beginnings of approval.

Lee sat back and considered John Faa. He was making reasonable arguments against the Gyptians involving themselves in the rescue of Asriel, but there was no heat or conviction in his words. His voice was neutral, and Lee guessed that he was testing the waters, watching the aeronaut for his reactions, taking his measure.

‘Perhaps,’ he continued. ‘Perhaps they’ll leave you alone for a time. But I know something about the man leading the Council, and the people he’s got involved, and lemme tell you, they’re crazy. Your friends got away from them and thwarted their plans – you really think they’ll let that slide? Cause they won’t. They won’t want any loose ends.’

‘Do you know how we got away?’ interrupted Tony, jumping down from the countertop and coming to stand over Lee.

‘Not now, Tony,’ said Farder Coram, as Lord Faa frowned at this disruption. But Tony paid no attention to them.

‘We got rescued by two wolves,’ Tony continued recklessly. ‘Everyone said we’d been knocked stupid, that we were seeing things. But we weren’t. There were two wolves, one great big black one and a small golden one. Bit through the ropes holding us and led us back to the river.’

Tony’s hawk daemon, who had been perched beside him on the counter, leapt off and glided to land on the floor beside Lee’s chair, glowering at Hester, who was sitting on Lee’s lap. Hester sniffed.

‘And the funny thing was, the big black wolf had a daemon,’ said Tony, face and voice feverish with certitude. ‘A hare. Brown and white.’

The other Gyptians shifted in their seats, taken aback by his blunt, heretical words. Ma Costa’s eyes flicked between Tony and Lee, while Farder Coram leaned over to whisper something to Lord Faa, who nodded. Lee regarded Tony impassively, even as he curled a protective arm around Hester. So much for keeping his daemon hidden during the rescue of the Gyptians.

‘I ain’t never heard of a wolf with a daemon,’ he lied.

‘It wasn’t a wolf – not an ordinary wolf,’ Tony amended. ‘I’ve seen wolves before. No, this wolf was special. It was a wolfwalker, a man who can turn into a wolf. They’ve lived in the forest for decades. They’ve got wild magic and they can speak to wolves and they hunt men and they can vanish into thin air –’

‘It’s true, there have been legends about wolves circulating round Oxford for years,’ John Faa broke in, with a glance that quelled even the increasingly agitated Tony. ‘Tony’s story about being rescued by wolves is… interesting, given the Council has started to hunt them down. It’s almost as if we share a common enemy.’

Lee looked at John Faa – and then Serafina. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

‘Well, the thing is, I know a bit about these wolves myself,’ Lee said, keeping an eye on Tony Costa. ‘Lyra’s the expert,’ he added, as Lyra’s head reared up indignantly. ‘And I can you, they’ve no love for the Council or the Magisterium.’

‘What do wolves know about the Magisterium?’ enquired Lord Faa.

Lee sighed as he wondered how to begin.

‘I’m not sure how to explain it,’ he admitted.

‘Then let me,’ broke in Lyra. She stood, and beckoned Tony over. Lee guessed her purpose and waited.

‘You got shot the other night,’ Lyra said, gesturing at his right arm. ‘A bullet nicked you. Can I see it?’

‘How’d you know that?’ Tony asked, nonetheless shucking his jacket and pulling up his sleeve to reveal a bandage around his upper arm. Lyra began unwrapping it to examine the injury, gripping at Tony’s arm when he tried to pull away. The dressing came off to reveal a nasty gash on Tony’s bicep, several stiches holding it closed, though the wound was still angry looking. Lyra placed a palm atop it and closed her eyes.

Even Lee, who knew what was coming, was awed all over again by the unfurling and weaving of strands of golden light from beneath Lyra’s hand, the radiance shimmering brighter and brighter as the magic gained in strength. Then it winked out, and Lyra took her hand away to reveal Tony’s mended arm. The thread that had formed the stiches fell to the floor, no longer needed.

Lee sneaked a look at the Gyptians and couldn’t suppress a smile at the flabbergasted expression pasted on everyone’s faces. Tony flexed his arm, poked at where the injury had been, and described a sexual perversion even the well-travelled Lee had never heard of before.

‘Hey, language!’ Lee cried hotly.

‘Not in front of Lyra!’ Ma Costa exclaimed at the same moment.

Lyra giggled. From the deck, Iorek’s gruff laugh rang out.

Tony looked abashed, but only for a moment. He pulled his sleeve back down and stared at Lyra and Lee in turn.

‘I was right, wasn’t I?’ he breathed. ‘Wolfwalkers! Both of you! It was you two, wasn’t it, that rescued me and Derrick?’

‘It was,’ grinned Lyra. ‘Bernie told us you’d gone missing, Tony. Me and Mr Scoresby found out where you were and went to get you.’

‘Oh, Lyra!’ cried Ma Costa, standing and sweeping both Tony and Lyra into a hug. Lyra and Tony both squirmed to be set free, but Ma Costa was a strong woman and hung on tight. Lee snickered and turned back to Lord Faa and Farder Coram, who had recovered from their shock and were regarding him with renewed interest.

‘Then we owe you our thanks, Mr Scoresby. And it seems we owe you a debt, also,’ said Lord Faa.

‘Helping your people was my pleasure, and as far as I’m concerned there’s nothing to repay,’ said Lee, as Hester nuzzled approvingly against his hand. ‘But now we need help in turn. Gentlemen, what we’re about to discuss must be kept secret – for Lyra’s safety, and mine. Not to mention a pack of wolves and Lord Asriel.’

‘Nothing we speak of here will leave this boat except by your express permission, Mr Scoresby, Lyra,’ vowed John Faa. ‘You have my word of honour, and if anyone should violate this, they will answer to me and my justice.’

‘I believe him,’ whispered Hester.

‘Me too,’ Lee whispered back. He turned back to Lord Faa.

‘We’d better get comfortable,’ he said to the Gyptians. ‘This is gonna take some time to explain.’

###

It did indeed take a while to explain, but not as long as Lee had feared. The Gyptians, well aware of the legends surrounding Badbury Forest and its wolves, already had a good idea about the nature of wolfwalkers and their powers. Likewise, they already knew a great deal about the City Council and its campaign against the wolves, having sent spies to the Town Hall and Jordan College as soon as Tony and his friend Derrick Volantyne had been taken and the ransom demand – transporting something from Jordan to an undisclosed location – received.

‘Alderman Danvers is one of the driving forces behind this campaign to wipe out the wolves,’ Lord Faa informed Lee and Lyra. ‘He’s been a thorn in the side of the Gyptians for several years now – random searches of our boats, trying to bring in regulations about where and when we can moor our craft. He’s an ambitious man, very religious. He wants to make a big song-and-dance about something and attract the attention of Parliament, to let him move into national rather than local politics. Wiping out the wolves is his latest crusade.’

‘The man’s a fanatic,’ Lee said bluntly, after describing the pitched battle of the previous night to the Gyptians. ‘He’s not gonna stop hunting the wolves, not while he has breath in his body. We need to get Asriel and get out of Oxford and get the pack somewhere safe. Lyra has a plan for that.’

‘Hmm,’ said Lord Faa, considering. ‘We have a contact in the Town Hall. Danvers has invested a lot of the Council’s money in this wolf hunt – more than many other Council members are happy with. If the hunt should prove a failure, it will damage his credibility.’

Lyra grinned roguishly, exchanging a sly glance with Lee.

‘We’d better make sure it’s a failure then,’ said Lee. ‘Lyra, as soon as we’ve rescued your father, we’ll take the wolves away from Badbury Forest. Danvers ain’t gonna look too clever if he’s got nothing to show for his spending.’

‘But before that,’ resumed Lord Faa, ‘we must rescue Asriel. If you are willing, Mr Scoresby, we shall do it tonight. There is no time to waste. Danvers and his cronies will be on high alert after last night – and they will be searching for _you._ ’

‘Hmm, guess I’m not gonna be visiting Oxford anytime soon,’ Lee sighed. ‘At least not in daylight.’

‘You’ll have to run,’ said Ma Costa, voice resolute. ‘All of you. As far as you can. The Gyptians will help you.’

‘Much appreciated, ma’am,’ said Lee. ‘I have my balloon. Once we have Asriel, we’ll head for the North. If you could find me some gas to fill it with –’

‘Consider it done,’ interrupted Tony Costa. His expression was fierce, and suddenly Lee knew why his daemon had settled as a hawk.

‘Thanks,’ Lee said with a nod. He said nothing more, but from the way Tony’s spine straightened, he guessed that Tony wasn’t used to being treated as one of the men, someone equal to bloodied warriors like John Faa.

‘Getting Asriel will not be like picking someone up off the riverbank – but I’ve gotten into more heavily guarded places in my time,’ continued Lord Faa. ‘We have boats that are small and manoeuvrable. We’ll wait until nightfall, and then pilot them up the tributary beneath Jordan.’

‘Are they strong enough to carry Iorek?’ Lee enquired. Lord Faa nodded, to Lee’s simultaneous relief and surprise.

‘Good. We’ve been doing some investigation of our own. The access to the Sheldon Building from the tributary has been sealed off, and we’ll need Iorek to knock down a wall or two.’

‘I shall be glad to,’ rumbled Iorek out on deck.

‘How many guards?’ asked Serafina Pekkala practically.

‘Two on duty at any one time,’ answered Lee. ‘Plenty more scattered about the college. We have a key into the lab, but we’ll need someone to kill the anbaric power to the lab before we can get Asriel out of his prison.’

‘I’ll take care of that,’ said Tony, before anyone else could say anything. ‘I’m good with anbarics. I’ll find the fuses and it’ll be lights out before you know it.’

‘Good,’ nodded Lord Faa. ‘We’ll be aiming for stealth and speed rather than strength during this rescue. Straight in, straight out, and taking out the guards as quietly as possible. We won’t be taking more than eight men, Mr Scoresby, not including Iorek Byrnison. Two to wait with the boats, two to sabotage the power and the rest of us to fetch Asriel.’

‘I’ll be one of those men going for Asriel,’ Lee said, voice mild but expression conveying this was non-negotiable.

‘As will I,’ said Serafina Pekkala.

‘And me!’ cried Lyra.

Lee wished for something stronger than tea. A neat shot of whisky would be very welcome fortification for arguing with Lyra. As it was, he was spared the necessity of bickering with her by the appalled Gyptians.

‘What? No, you most certainly aren’t!’ said Ma Costa.

‘But he’s _my_ father!’ Lyra burst out. Lee sucked in his breath – they hadn’t revealed Lyra’s parentage to the Gyptians. But then he realised that none of the Gyptians looked remotely surprised by this little snippet of information.

‘This mission will be too dangerous for you, Lyra. You can wait with me until it’s over,’ said Farder Coram. He spoke gently, but Lyra’s answering glower was anything but gentle.

‘I won’t wait. I’m a wolfwalker, I’m as dangerous as any of you!’ she declared, eyes blazing as she stood and stared them all down.

‘You’ll do as we tell you!’ snapped Ma Costa, taking hold of her arm. ‘Your father will want you safe, and this will be anything but safe.’

‘But you _need_ me!’ Lyra exclaimed. ‘He won’t trust a stranger, but he’ll follow me when he sees me!’

‘Absolutely not!’ said Farder Coram.

‘Kid’s got a point,’ Hester murmured to Lee.

‘Are you nuts, Hester? I’m not dragging her into danger!’ he whispered back.

‘Seems to me she’s safer coming with us than leaving her with the Gyptians. Ain’t no way she’ll wait quietly for us to come back. At least if she comes someone can keep watch over her.’

Lee reflected for a few moments. His preference was to keep Lyra away from the rescue entirely, but dammit if Hester wasn’t right. Lyra was a trouble-magnet, and if left to her own devices she was bound to get into some pickle or other. And she had a point about Asriel. Any reasonable man – or even a wolf – was bound to be mistrustful of some Gyptians, a witch, an armoured bear and an unknown wolfwalker showing up out of nowhere, even if they were purporting to rescue him. Having Lyra along would convince him of their good intentions.

‘You can come with us in the boats,’ he said, silencing the still-wrangling Gyptians and Lyra. ‘ _Only_ in the boats, mind. No further. And only if you promise to run for it at the first sign of trouble. Any funny business and I throw you in the river. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Lyra said at once. Pantalaimon, who had turned into a large tabby cat and was perched on her shoulders, nodded in turn.

Lord Faa frowned but said nothing. Tony Costa muttered something about a ‘daft Texan.’ Ma Costa and Farder Coram looked at Lee in utter horror. Only Serafina Pekkala remained composed, though Lee didn’t detect any disapproval behind her serene expression.

‘Are you mad? Taking a child along on a mission like this?’ exclaimed Ma Costa. ‘There’s a good chance not all of us will make it out alive, and you want to risk Lyra? Not on your life, Texan!’

‘There’s no “want” about it, ma’am,’ said Lee, and though his voice was mild his eyes flashed dangerously. A low growl emanated from the deck, indicating Iorek was listening and had taken umbrage on Lee’s behalf. Tony Costa shuffled back a pace or two, but Ma Costa, fearless in her indignation, stood and came to loom over Lee. Her hawk daemon stayed put but shrieked at Hester.

‘Dumb bird,’ muttered Hester, looking supremely unimpressed.

‘Lyra is staying here, where it’s safe,’ Ma Costa snapped. ‘You’ve no right to go dragging her into danger. You may be the devil-may-care type, but you should know better where Lyra is –’

‘Mr Scoresby knows the danger, better than anyone!’ Lyra broke in. ‘He’s fought off hunters and the Magisterium for me.’

‘Then you’re even worse than I thought,’ Ma Costa continued, obviously working herself up for a fight. Lee sat back and prepared for the onslaught, but Lyra wasn’t so sanguine. She shoved her way between Ma Costa and Lee and stood glowering at the taller woman, fury radiating from her entire frame. Pantalaimon turned into a polecat and snarled at Ma Costa’s daemon.

‘You’ve no right to speak to him like that!’ Lyra spat.

‘I’ve every right!’ Ma Costa argued back, glaring at Lee rather than Lyra. ‘I’ve known you since you were born, Lyra! I’m not letting some upstart who doesn’t give a damn about you pull you into –’

She got no further, for her words pushed Lyra clean over the brink of her temper. She lunged at Ma Costa, hitting and pummelling, Pantalaimon leaping from her shoulders to stand, fur standing on end and teeth bared, by her side. The Gyptians all sprang to their feet, but Lee was faster than anyone. He stood up and grabbed Lyra, pinioning her arms to her sides and dragging her back out of kicking range.

‘Lyra, stand down, honey,’ he murmured in her ear. Then he looked over the top of her head at the Gyptians, and Ma Costa, who had fallen silent in shock.

‘Ma’am, I understand you want to protect Lyra, and I’m grateful to you for that,’ he said. ‘But don’t ever accuse me of not caring about her. It ain’t true, and if you do it again, there’s gonna be consequences. You hearing me?’

Silence reigned for a few tortuous moments. Out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw Serafina Pekkala’s hand on the handle of her knife.

Ma Costa cleared her throat.

‘For saying that you didn’t care about Lyra… I apologise,’ she said stiffly. Her daemon folded his wings and bowed his head.

‘Accepted,’ said Lee. ‘Now, Lyra, say sorry to Ma Costa for hitting her.’

‘She deserved it!’ growled Lyra mutinously. Lee rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge Lyra couldn’t see it.

‘Maybe, but these are our allies, and there’s better ways to resolve things than with fists,’ he said quietly to Lyra. She stood unyielding for another few moments, but then she nodded. Pantalaimon stopped snarling and sat down by Lyra’s feet. Lee let go of her, and Lyra faced Ma Costa.

‘I’m sorry I hit you,’ she said, sounding just a little shamefaced. ‘But you were wrong. Mr Scoresby and me are pack, and we care about each other more than anything else.’

‘You little barbarian,’ Ma Costa fumed, smacking Lyra on the ear. ‘You lay a finger on me again and I’ll bite it off, you hear me?’

‘I think she’ll know better in future, ma’am,’ Lee said drily. Ma Costa’s eyes met his, and despite her temper, her mouth quirked upwards at the corners.

‘Looks like I underestimated you, Mr Scoresby,’ she remarked. ‘I’ve never known anyone able to make Lyra say “sorry” before now.’

‘It takes some doing,’ Lee answered, smiling just a little. ‘But going back to our earlier argument, I’m not wild about Lyra coming along on this rescue. It’s gonna be risky. But she’s right – Asriel will have no reason to trust a bunch of strangers, and we might need Lyra to spur him along. And besides, this young lady’s a tough customer. She’s coped with stuff most adults couldn’t.’

Ma Costa’s mouth widened into a smile. Lord Faa and Farder Coram exchanged glances.

‘Very well,’ said Lord Faa. ‘Eight of us, counting Serafina Pekkala and you, Mr Scoresby, and Iorek Byrnison and Lyra.’

‘And me,’ said Ma Costa. ‘I’ll be coming along to look after Lyra.’

Lee was amused to note that neither Lord Faa nor Farder Coram made any attempt to dissuade Ma Costa from this course of action. Tony Costa muttered something that sounded like ‘for crying out loud, mum,’ but didn’t protest.

‘Much obliged, ma’am,’ Lee told her.

‘I’ll ask for volunteers, given the danger,’ Lord Faa. ‘Now, we will have to go armed. Let us know what ammunition you need, Scoresby. I’ll bring my –’

He broke off as footsteps sounded on the deck outside.

‘Scuse me, bear!’ said someone, and a moment later a Gyptian woman poked her head into the cabin. ‘Scuse me, Lord Faa, but there’s men from the Council coming down the bank, saying they’ve got a warrant to search our boats!’

‘Hellfire,’ muttered Lord Faa wrathfully. ‘Stall them, Lavinia! Mr Scoresby, Lyra, Serafina Pekkala, go with Tony and Ma Costa. We’ll have to hide you – and Iorek Bynison.’

‘That ain’t gonna be easy!’ exclaimed Lee, as Ma Costa and Tony began ushering the wolfwalkers and the witch along the slender interior of the boat. Lord Faa went in the opposite direction, presumably to deal with Iorek.

‘We have our ways, Mr Scoresby,’ said Tony. ‘Now, all of you keep quiet and follow me. Don’t worry about the bear – we’ll make sure he’s safe too.’

And there was nothing for it but to do as they were told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mental casting again:
> 
> Ma Costa - Anne-Marie Duff  
> Farder Coram - James Cosmo  
> Lord John Faa - Lucian Msamati
> 
> The information about Lee's witch lover is taken from Pullman's 'Lantern Slides,' snippets of stories about the worlds and characters of 'His Dark Materials.' Lee apparently used to say that the witch had ruined him for women aged less than 300 (but it didn't prevent him from having plenty of romantic encounters...) 
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	17. Beneath the Oak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee, Lyra and Serafina Pekkala try to hide from the Council... but will the Gyptians manage to conceal Iorek?

Tony led them down another gangplank and a little way down the bank before veering off down a dirt track leading away from the river. A few minutes’ wall brought them to a copse of trees, mostly birch but with a vast, ancient oak tree at the centre. Ma Costa and Tony led them to the oak. Despite its verdant branches, the great trunk was hollow. The was a gash in the bark plenty big enough for a grown man to squeeze in through.

Tony reached in, and to the admiration of the fugitives, lifted up a wooden cover, disguised to look like the interior of the tree.

‘It looks small, but it leads to a hideaway,’ he explained briefly. ‘Been using it for years. Get down, all of you, and wait till I come for you. Here’s a torch. No-one will see it if you turn it on.’

Serafina went first with Kasia, both leaping down gracefully. Her long slender hand emerged from the entrance, and Lyra went forward trustingly, taking Serafina’s hand and scrambling down. Lee went last, Hester tucked in his jacket, lowering himself legs first and then pushing off the edge of the hole.

It was a short drop, not more than four feet, onto packed earth. Lee crouched and glanced upwards just in time to see Tony replacing the wooden cover and plunging him into darkness so absolute that the sun and stars might have burned themselves out for all Lee knew.

‘Torch, Lee,’ said Hester.

He groped in his pocket for his anbaric torch, but was beaten to it by Lyra, who had turned on the light Tony provided. She shone it around, and Lee found they were in a cave of sorts. It was low-ceilinged, and even Lyra was being forced to crouch. But it was extensive, measuring probably thirty feet in diameter. It was hard to tell, because the roots of the oak plunged from the ceiling all the way into the floor in some instances, forming natural pillars.

‘Not bad,’ he murmured, impressed.

‘What do we do now?’ asked Lyra. Pantalaimon was a tawny owl, gazing round with wide eyes.

‘Now we wait,’ shrugged Lee. ‘Not much else to do.’

He settled himself on the earthen floor and Hester hopped onto this lap. Lyra came and settled herself beside him, while Serafina sank gracefully to the floor and leaned against a tree root.

‘Do you think Iorek will be all right?’ murmured Lyra after a minute.

‘He’s difficult to hide, but I have faith in these Gyptians,’ Lee answered. ‘And besides, he’s been through worse. The Tunguska Campaign, for instance.’

‘Why don’t you tell us about it?’ suggested Serafina.

‘You sure? ‘Cause most of it is me trying to work out how much Iorek weighed by then – the Tartars had cut him off and been starving him out.’

‘Yes, tell us,’ urged Lyra, leaning against him.

‘All right. Pretty ferocious campaign, the Tunguska. I was up in that region, making deliveries of ammunition and trying to keep clear of the fighting –’

‘That didn’t happen, of course.’

‘Hush up, Hester. Well, I’d flown into the military base at Krasnoyarsk, made my delivery, and was just about to high-tail it out of there when one of the soldiers mentioned that the battalion of armoured bears were under siege…’

###

Lee had finished telling stories about the Tunguska Campaign, and Lyra was in the throes of a detailed account of how she and some ‘townies’ had won a legendary victory over some brickburners’ kids through strategy, courage and copious slinging of clay when there was a knock on the cover concealing the cave. A moment later, daylight came pouring in through the entrance and everyone winced and shielded their eyes.

‘All clear!’ called Tony Costa. ‘Come on up!’

One by one they emerged, blinking, into the Oxford afternoon, which despite the weak and watery sunlight now straggling through the clouds felt warm and humid after sheltering in the cave. Lee hoisted Lyra up first, with Tony’s help, then Serafina leapt up with no apparent effort, and finally Lee hauled himself out. Once outside, he was relieved to see Iorek waiting for them, along with Lord Faa, Farder Coram and Ma Costa.

‘Iorek, old fellow,’ Lee greeted him. ‘Good to see you.’

‘Where did they hide you?’ Lyra asked eagerly.

‘In a culvert, just off the river,’ Ma Costa answered before Iorek could say anything. ‘He went in the water with only his nose poking out and we covered him up with pondweed and branches. Those pillocks from the Council walked right past him, didn’t spot a thing.’

‘Did they cause much distress?’ asked Serafina.

‘They created a mess, made a lot of noise,’ growled Lord Faa. ‘Threw their weight around. Nothing we haven’t been through before, but I’d willingly throttle each and every one of those bullies given the chance. Our people are quite literally being harried out of Oxford. We have no peace from the Council under Danvers.’

‘He was here, by the way,’ Farder Coram informed the fugitives. ‘Alderman Danvers, overseeing the search. He wanted every boat investigated, and his men were interrogating everyone they could lay hands on. They were tipping things overboard, too, until Lord Faa threatened to sue the Council for property damages.’

‘Bastard,’ Lee muttered, face turned aside to keep Lyra from hearing.

‘Do you think he knew we were here?’ asked Lyra. Lord Faa shook his head.

‘No. I had a quick chat with Derrick Volantyne just now – the other Gyptian you rescued a couple of nights ago. He was in Oxford this morning, doing a bit of spying for us. He told me the Council has been raiding properties in the city all morning – warehouses, pub cellars, even some boarding houses for under-scholars. Danvers is obviously targeting anywhere he thinks you could be hiding.’

‘Son of a bitch,’ said Lee, not bothering to lower his voice this time. ‘Does the Council have that sort of power? To carry out raids and so on?’

‘Not legally, no,’ answered Lord Faa, looking troubled. ‘That’s police jurisdiction, and the Oxford constabulary have usually let the Gyptians be, provided we don’t cause trouble. But it seems Danvers has requested special permission from Parliament to enforce Council regulations by hiring private security – or Magisterium security. That’s how he’s managed to enforce the curfew.’

‘It’s causing a lot of friction between the Council and the police,’ Ma Costa added. ‘A few officers have even begun tipping us off when they get wind of Council raids and the like.’

‘I’ll have to check on my balloon if I get chance,’ said Lee. ‘But if you’re all still willing, let’s focus on getting Asriel out of Jordan College.’

‘I’ll go and round up some volunteers,’ said Lord Faa at once. ‘I’ll need four more men. We’ll bring you all back aboard the boats when we’ve straightened everything up, let you all get some rest before tonight. Wait here for now. Mr Scoresby, let us know where your balloon is stored, and I’ll send someone to check on it.’

Lee did so. He watched as Lord Faa departed and turned back to Lyra and Serafina Pekkala. He stripped off his coat and spread it below a lovely old birch.

‘Might as well get comfy while we wait,’ he remarked.

‘We’ll bring you all something to eat,’ said Ma Costa. ‘Tony, you go and help Lord Faa with whatever he needs.’

‘I prefer to walk by the river, if you don’t mind,’ said Serafina. ‘I will not go far. Coram, will you join me?’

Farder Coram was taken aback by this suggestion, but he nodded agreement. Together, he and Serafina set off through the trees, their daemons walking alongside, having a private conversation of their own.

Tony and Ma Costa departed for the boats. Lee settled himself on his coat, Hester by his side. He lent against the tree and closed his eyes for a few moments, adrenaline fading and leaving him feeling wrung-out. He didn’t hear Lyra move to sit down, or walking around, or chatting to Pantalaimon, and opened his eyes.

Lyra was standing stiffly, hands curled into fists, staring hard at the ground. Pantalaimon, as a stoat, stood beside her, looking up at her anxiously.

‘Kid?’ Lee asked, concerned. ‘Care to tell me what the matter is?’

Lyra turned away. Lee frowned, then turned to Hester.

‘Wait for a minute, Lee,’ she whispered.

So, he did, keeping watch over Lyra. She continued to stand rigid, fist clenched, until Lee’s silence defeated her. She turned back to him, and he was astonished and more than a little upset to see tears glimmering in her eyes. She brushed at them angrily.

‘I hate them!’ she burst out. ‘I hate the Council! I was happy in the woods, and now it’s all going to change, again, and now everyone’s being hunted! The Gyptians, you…sometimes I wish that… that…’

Her voice faded away.

‘That you weren’t a wolfwalker?’ Lee suggested gently. Lyra stopped rubbing at her eyes and scowled ferociously at him. Lee couldn’t help smiling, relieved to see a resurgence of familiar temper rather than sadness.

‘It’s stupid,’ she muttered sullenly. ‘I love being a wolfwalker. But… but the Council hates us, it’s brought all this trouble down on us, down on the Costas… and your daemon’s right. Everyone’s hunting you and wants to kill you –’

‘So, what else is new?’ Lee interrupted. ‘It’s a rare day when I don’t have at least one man out for my blood, and that was before I became a wolfwalker. Besides, Lyra, you ain’t responsible for what other people do. You heard Lord Faa. Danvers was persecuting the Gyptians before we came to his notice. The ones causing the trouble are the Council and that Mrs Coulter, and no-one else. We were all living our lives peacefully –’

‘You’ve got a funny idea of peaceful,’ interrupted Hester.

‘– before they started throwing their weight around.’

‘I still dragged you into it,’ Lyra muttered. ‘I didn’t mean to, but –’

‘Lyra, honey, I got myself into this,’ Lee said firmly. ‘If I hadn’t broken curfew that first night, I never would’ve gotten bit, and we would’ve never met each other. But if the price of keeping clear of trouble is never meeting you, well then… it’s too high a price to pay.’

Lyra dropped her gaze and fidgeted with the buttons on her coat. Pantalaimon crept over to Hester and pressed himself against her, while she nibbled his ears gently, as she sometimes did with Lee.

‘You don’t think I’m daft for wanting it all to go away? To just be human sometimes?’ she asked.

‘On the contrary, I think it’s perfectly normal,’ Lee answered. ‘Not that I have much to go on, you understand. This is all new to me. But wishing that trouble hadn’t found you, that you were still living your old life in Oxford… nah, that ain’t stupid. Only stupid thing is if you get so caught up in wanting it back that it distracts you from living your life.’

‘For once in his life he’s right,’ Hester chimed in. ‘No point in trying to change what you are. I made that mistake and made us both miserable. You can fight everything except your nature.’

The half-quiet of the woods and riverbank reigned for a minute, as Lyra pondered Lee’s words. The leaves rustled overheard. Some ducks quacked and scolded on the river. Shouts came from the riverside as the Gyptians worked at something or other.

‘Is that what we’re going to do, then?’ Lyra asked Lee abruptly. ‘Fight?’

‘Yeah,’ Lee acknowledged, though pain sank its jaws into him at the thought of Lyra caught up in the war between the wolves and the Council. ‘We’ve no choice. These people are bullies and brutes, and they’ll hurt anyone who gets in their way. Someone has to deal with them.’

‘Us?’

‘Well, it doesn’t look like anyone else is going to.’

Lyra smiled a little at that. She walked over and settled herself beside Lee. He put an arm around her shoulders, and she settled against him trustingly.

‘Why do the Council hate us so much?’ she asked him. Lee wondered if she’d ever run out of questions. Or if one day she’d ask one and he wouldn’t have an answer for her.

‘Well, my guess is it’s because we’ve got power,’ Lee answered, giving her his best conjecture. ‘We’ve got a power they don’t understand, and which they’ll never have. It frightens them, and so they either want to tame or destroy it. We can’t be tamed, and that just leaves the one option.’

‘But we’ve never hurt them,’ Lyra protested, as if she’d only just realised that the Council were being unjust.

‘Don’t matter to them. If you have a special gift, power of any kind, hell, if you’re a bit smarter than everyone around you, you’re going to make enemies. Some people don’t like it when someone has something they don’t. If they can’t take it for themselves, they’ll try and make damn sure no-one else can have it.’

‘But we aren’t going to let them,’ Lyra murmured.

‘Not while I have breath in my body, kid,’ said Lee.

Lyra reached up to grip his hand where it lay on her shoulder.

‘I’m glad it was you I bit,’ she said.

Lee smiled to himself, and turned his face skywards, watching the grey clouds drift across the firmament, casting restless shadows as the sun fought to break through, and he and Lyra waited for the evening, so their work could begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The details about the Tunguska Campaign are derived from 'Northern Lights' and my own imagination. 
> 
> A short chapter this time, but I'm cranking it up to eleven very soon! Get ready, Lord Asriel fans, we'll be seeing him (albeit in wolf form) before long.
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	18. The Raid on Jordan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee, Lyra, Serafina Pekkala, Iorek and the Gyptians finally embark on their mission to rescue Asriel. As usual, things don't go according to plan.
> 
> WARNING: there's a lot of swearing and violence in this chapter, treat with caution if need be.

It was night, an Oxford night. To Lee, who was used to Arctic nights – glittering, wheeling stars, the aurora shimmering like fish scales above, the space between constellations as black as tar, the blinding blue stained ice reaching out to the horizon, the silence as deep as the ocean – it felt creepily similar to daylight.

The streets were ablaze with anbaric lamps, the light pouring out of pubs and inns, the lanterns swinging from the trees lining the rivers and canals. The noise was resounding to Lee’s newly acute hearing – people talking, laughing, arguing, shrieking, their footsteps smacking against dirt and paving, their daemons squawking and barking and yowling, music being played, vehicles rumbling along…

A tap to the shoulder roused him from the trance he’d sunk into. Lee glanced over at Lyra, sitting next to him in the boat, and mouthed _thank you_. He turned back to face where they were headed, far along the river, determined to focus on what they were doing. Which was rescuing Lyra’s father, at long last.

Night had fallen hours ago, and the Gyptians had decided to wait until almost midnight before setting off for Jordan. They were in two boats: Lee, Lyra, Ma Costa, and two Gyptians in one, Lord Faa, Tony Costa, Serafina Pekkala, Iorek Byrnison and a fourth Gyptian man in another. Iorek was covered with tarpaulin and crouched motionless in the stern of the smallish but swift craft.

Once the men from the Council and Alderman Danvers had departed, fuming and empty-handed, preparations for the rescue had proceeded apace. Lord Faa, as promised, had dispatched trustworthy men to check on Lee’s balloon, and if possible, retrieve his treasured Winchester rifle, stowed safely in the basket. They’d returned with the rifle and confirmation that the balloon was safe, a load off Lee’s mind. He was reassured further by the confirmation the Gyptians would be able to obtain gas to fill it with, when it was time for them to leave.

The afternoon had been spent onboard a Gyptian vessel, talking strategy with Serafina, Iorek and the Gyptians and eating roast trout so fresh it must have been caught that morning. Rather to Lee’s surprise, there had been no shortage of volunteers for the rescue mission. The man with the heron daemon, whose name was Bram Garrod, had been one of those chosen, as had Derrick, the quiet young man with the water vole daemon. He seemed possessed of a mute admiration for Lee and had sat all afternoon gazing at him and Hester and jumping in delighted terror every time Lee spoke to him. Derrick’s vole daemon hid in his pocket and occasionally peeped out at Hester. Nonetheless, he was steering the boat they were in with skill and assurance.

The plan was simple: get to Jordan, get underneath the Sheldon building, have Iorek bust his way into the building and enter. Lee, Serafina, Lord Faa and one of the Gyptians would head to the lab and take out the guards, while Tony Costa and Bram Garrod sabotaged the anbaric power. They would release Asriel and head back to the boats where Lyra, Ma Costa, Derrick and the one remaining Gyptian would be waiting for them and flee for their lives.

It was straightforward. It was carefully planned, the Gyptians going over every detail: the exact location of the Sheldon building, where the lab might be situated, the number of guards, even the likely location of the building’s fuse box. They had weapons, ammunition, skilled fighters, men used to sneaking about unseen, the assistance of an armoured bear and a witch, and the advantage of surprise. Serafina’s daemon, Kasia, had left her side and was flying above the college as they travelled, spying out any potential threats. They had done everything they could to prepare and more.

Which meant things would probably go to hell in a handbasket in ten minutes or less. Lee sighed, wishing he could be more optimistic – for Lyra’s sake, if nothing else – but too experienced for that.

Despite his foreboding, once the boats left behind the bustle of late-night Oxford, everything was progressing exactly as planned. The rescue party glided along between the high banks in almost complete darkness. The Gyptians didn’t bother with torches or turning on any lights, which Lee found worrisome at first, but he soon realised the Gyptians didn’t need light to navigate. Derrick and the other Gyptian steered the boats along without a moment of hesitation. So, Lee settled in to wait quietly for the battle that almost certainly lay ahead.

In less time than he’d anticipated, the walls of what must be Jordan College loomed over them, and moments later the mouth of the tunnel that led underneath the college gaped before them. It was low ceilinged, black as pitch inside and put Lee uncomfortably in mind of a toothless mouth of some great sea creature, swallowing them up. Fortunately, the Gyptians turned on the anbaric lights strung along the boats as soon as they’d drifted inside, illuminating a tunnel that must have been several hundred years old.

It was cold, the walls coated with slimy moss, the silence punctuated with the slap of water against stone, intermittent drips, and the murmur of the boat engines. Up ahead, Lee could just about make out Lord Faa and Bram counting how many yards they’d travelled into the tunnel.

When they’d counted off sufficient yards to position themselves directly under the Sheldon Building, the Gyptians trained their torches on the tunnel walls, searching for an entrance. Bram’s light revealed a reassuringly wide archway and a set of stairs leading upwards.

The Gyptians steered both boats alongside the narrow stone dock that bordered the arch and tossed the mooring ropes round a granite pillar slippery with wet and mould. Lord Faa jumped out first, followed by Lee.

‘Everyone else, wait here for a moment,’ said Lord Faa, and led the way up the steps, a torch in one hand and a falchion in the other. Lee, who was swiftly forming a high regard for John Faa and his leadership and his willingness to do the dirty work with his men, followed after, revolver at the ready and his beloved Winchester rifle slung over his shoulder by its strap.

The stairs led upwards for twenty steps, and ended in another archway, a narrow one that had been bricked off. The mortar between the bricks was crumbling, but when Lee pushed against it the wall held firm.

‘Get the bear up here,’ whispered Lord Faa. Lee jumped down a couple of steps to call for Iorek.

‘Iorek, we need you!’ he said softly. Iorek heard him and shuffled out from under the tarpaulin, stepping carefully onto the slick stairs and making his way up to the sealed archway. Lee and Lord Faa stepped aside for him, as the bear inspected the brickwork and the mortar.

‘Stand back, both of you,’ Iorek said, and as soon as they’d retreated a few steps, put his mighty forepaws against the wall and pushed.

It took some effort on Iorek’s part, for it was good workmanship, but the old mortar could not hold against the bear’s tremendous strength. It gave way in a clatter of bricks, which echoed hideously around the tunnel.

Everyone held their breath, but after a minute of waiting no sound had emerged from the other side of the archway. Lee and Lord Faa assisted Iorek in clearing a path through the rubble, and then gestured to the rest of their cohort. Serafina, Bram, Tony Costa and another of the Gyptians, whose name was Liam, all jumped ashore, leaving Derrick, Ma Costa, Lyra and Reuben, the other steersman, waiting in the boats.

‘Let’s go,’ whispered Lord Faa. ‘Quiet as possible, everyone. If something goes wrong, don’t try to rendezvous back here. Make your escape upstairs. Iorek Byrnison, if things go wrong, please help our friends to get away.’

‘Consider it done,’ growled Iorek, before backing carefully down the steps.

Lord Faa stepped through the archway and into the college. The Gyptians and Serafina followed him, while Lee brought up the rear.

They passed through a short, dusty corridor into a large cellar crammed with odds and ends. There was old furniture such as bookcases and chairs, broken lamps and wicker hampers, though there were some interesting looking objects such as a model of the solar system, a crystal chandelier, piles of tattered books.

They crept through the junk to a doorway in the opposite wall. It was locked when Lord Faa tried it, but Liam stepped forward, unwrapping a cloth packet that when unravelled revealed a truly impressive array of lock picks. Lee couldn’t help snickering as Liam selected the necessary tools, and then went to work on the door. He had it open in less than two minutes.

The door creaked when opened and more than one person winced, but it swung aside and revealed a dimly lit, deserted corridor. Lord Faa went through, scanned for danger, and then turned back to his crew.

‘No-one in sight,’ he whispered. ‘Tony, you and Bram deal with the anbaric power, then get back to the boats. The rest of us will go and find the lab holding Asriel. Mr Scoresby, do you know where it is?’

‘Nah, but I have an idea,’ Lee answered. ‘Lead the way, Lord Faa. I’ll tell you if it starts to look familiar.’

Lord Faa nodded, and without hesitation turned right and began moving silently down the corridor, his daemon perched silent upon his shoulder. Serafina went next, then the Gyptians and finally Lee and Hester, ears straining for the slightest sound.

They walked to the end of the corridor, where it branched off into two more passageways, one to the left and one to the right. Tony Costa and Bram slipped past everyone else and turned left, heading off to find the fuse box or whatever else would allow them to cut power.

‘Should we follow?’ whispered Liam.

‘Give Mr Scoresby a moment,’ said Serafina.

Lee was about to ask what she meant when something caught his attention – a scent, something out of place amidst the smell of dust and old paint and dampened wood and the reek of the river that came drifting along with them. It was the musk of a wild animal, fur and blood and ammonia and something earthy.

Lee sniffed, a little self-consciously, trying to make it out, make it stronger. But then he forgot about looking ridiculous as he realised, he could tell what direction the scent was emanating from.

‘To the right,’ he whispered. ‘Follow me.’

The motley group crept along, Lee going ever more confidently as he used his nose, as Lyra had been teaching him. They went around another corner and halfway down one more corridor when Lee heard the murmur of voices up ahead.

He held up his hand to stall everyone, and then crept forward. He realised the voices were emanating from a recessed area, a space where the corridor opened out into a foyer before continuing on its way. Lee motioned to Hester, and his daemon knew exactly what to do. She hopped forward, paws making no noise on the hardwood floor, and peered round the crook of the wall.

A moment later, she shuffled backwards, and Lee sank into a crouch so he could hear what she had to say.

‘Two guards, just like Van Buskirk said,’ Hester murmured. ‘They’ve got a revolver each, and batons.’

Lee stood and beckoned everyone closer, mouthing rather than speaking the information.

‘Someone must provide a distraction and the others can take them out,’ Lord Faa whispered. ‘Whack them over the head if possible, keep it quiet. Liam, would you mind?’

Liam sheathed the knife he had in hand, and sauntered forth, his stone curlew daemon walking alongside him.

‘‘Scuse me, gents,’ they heard him say. ‘I’m looking for the –’

‘What are you doing down here?’ said one of the guards. ‘State your business!’

There came the ominous _click_ of the hammer on a gun being drawn back, the growl of a dog-daemon. Everyone tensed. Lee drew his revolver, and Serafina notched an arrow onto her bow.

‘Whoa, hang on mate, no need for that!’ Liam said ingratiatingly. ‘Look, I know I’m not meant to be down here, but there’s a girl from the kitchen, you know how it is, and she said we wouldn’t be disturbed down here –’

‘Shut up,’ the guard said, irritation roughening his voice. ‘And show me some identification! You’re not a scholar, this section is off-limits to everyone except these on the list. What’s your name?’

‘Er, mate, look, I wouldn’t do that. Here’s the thing, I got asked here by a woman from the Council. Coulter, her name is.’

There was a pause. Then, the blessed sound of the gun’s safety being clicked back _on_.

‘State your business,’ said the guard.

‘That’s the problem, I’m not sure what it is. I’m a bargeman see, and she said she had some work for us. Pretty urgent, from the sounds of it. She told me to show up here tonight and not much else – except I was to keep me mouth shut.’

Lee grinned to himself at Liam’s cleverness. He could sense the guard’s growing uncertainty in the face of the expert bluff. The odds were, it was a ruse, but Liam had raised just enough doubt in the mind of the guard for him to lower his weapon.

‘Everyone, on three,’ Lee whispered. Serafina whisked bow and arrow into their carrier on her back and grabbed her knife. Lord Faa raised his falchion.

‘One, two, _three!_ ’

He and Serafina and Lord Faa leapt out from the corridor, weapons at the ready. Serafina, who could move like the wind, spun behind the guard confronting Liam and held her knife to his throat. His daemon, a bullmastiff, snarled and crouched to spring. Serafina pressed the knife against the man’s neck and a trickle of blood meandered down his pale skin. The daemon growled in balked fury but submitted and sat down.

Lee, meanwhile, had pointed his revolver at the head of the remaining guard, a tall stolid man with a lemur daemon, standing next to an unmarked door. The man, obviously not expecting a regular night shift to take such a dramatic turn, gawped at him and grasped for his gun.

‘Don’t you dare,’ said Lee, and though his voice was soft there was a note in it that made the guard freeze rigid. ‘Good man. Now, hold still while my associate gets your weapons.’

Lord Faa made short work of collecting the guards’ guns and batons, and then set about tying both of them up with some cord he’d brought along. Liam gagged them, before everyone carried them to a nearby storage room and dumped them in there, their daemons being dragged along by their bonds.

‘Not a sound from you daemons, or we’ll come back and put several bullets in both of you,’ Lord Faa informed them just before he shut the door. The lemur hunkered on top of her human and said nothing. The bullmastiff growled, but Serafina stepped forward, bow and arrowed aimed at the daemon. Whether it was the witch, standing solitary with no daemon, or the arrow pointed at the mastiff’s heart, or something in Serafina’s steady gaze, the sight cowed the daemon and she crept over to her human, whimpering.

Lee backed out of the room, Serafina following. He dug in his pocket for the key to the lab he’d had cut and went straight to the door of the lab. The smell of what he now realised was a wolfwalker was overpowering, and he inserted the key in the lock, praying it would turn.

‘Everyone be ready, just in case this trips an alarm or something,’ he said, and tried the key. It was stiff in the lock, but it turned. Lee stepped to the side of the door, just in case someone was waiting on the other side or it was booby-trapped and twisted the handle.

The door swung open easily, revealing a glimpse of gleaming white tiles and stainless-steel tables. Lee waited for a moment, but when nothing stirred inside the room, he ventured inside, revolver at the ready.

The lab was a decent sized one, low-ceilinged but long, stretching at least thirty yards down the side of the building. It was thronged with workstations, machinery of all kinds, shelves crammed with books and papers. It looked deserted, but there were too many potential hidey-holes for a quick-thinking person to conceal themselves in for Lee to relax. The far end was curtained off, a heavy green cover reminiscent of a hospital. The scent of the wolfwalker was strongest there, and Lee began to advance cautiously through the room. Serafina and Lord Faa followed close behind. Liam stationed himself at the door to act as lookout.

Lee reached the curtain and peered behind it.

His stomach swooped as it had once done when a cliff-ghast had ripped a hole in the envelope of his balloon and sent him and Hester plummeting earthwards.

The curtain was shielding three sizeable cages that took up the lab’s entire back wall. All were occupied. One held a massive wolf with light brown fur, curled up in a corner, the central one a snow leopard daemon with bleary yellow eyes, and the last one a young man with terrified eyes, his nervous twitching hands holding his ptarmigan daemon close to his heart.

‘Holy shit,’ exclaimed Lee, recognising the young man from the park. He pulled the curtain aside, and Serafina and the Gyptians came forward, their faces twisted by horror. ‘Hang on, kid, we’re the rescue party. What’s your name?’

‘Wilf,’ the boy stammered, staring at Lee as if he were a night-ghast. ‘Wilfred, really. Wilfred Bachelot. My daemon is Kada.’

‘Well, hello, Wilf,’ said Lee. ‘Remember me? From the park?’

Wilf gawped at him for a few moments, and then nodded, movements jerky and frantic.

A flurry of anbaric sparks made everyone jump. Lord Faa had grabbed a cloth from a worktable and flung it at the cage holding the daemon. Just as Van Buskirk had warned, the cages had anbaric power being channelled through the metal forming them. The leopard daemon snarled half-heartedly, while the wolf in the cage rose to its feet, growling a warning.

‘Okay, Wilf, we’re going to get you out of here,’ Lee murmured. ‘Just hang tight until our associates kill the power to your cages.’

Wilf, too stunned to argue or even answer, nodded again. Lee moved down the row of cages to where the wolf was standing. It was a big animal, though not as broad as Lee in his wolf form. Its legs were splayed wide, as if were having trouble keeping its balance, and its head hung low, though it looked up at Lee from dull eyes that were somehow both full of awareness and not quite all there.

‘Lord Asriel?’ Lee whispered. The wolf’s ears twitched. Its daemon looked over at Lee, teeth bared. Hester sniffed audibly.

‘Lord Asriel, you don’t know me, but I’m a friend of your daughter’s,’ Lee continued, watching the wolf intently for some reaction, some sign that the man inside was listening, was understanding him. ‘I’m a friend of Lyra’s. She’s sent us to get you out. Hold on, and you’ll be free soon.’

The wolf stared at him, not a twitch of a lip or a flick of its tail betraying what it thought or felt. Its daemon snarled.

‘Free?’ she spat. ‘No free. _Liar_.’

‘Do I look like a damn theologian to you? Or someone from the Council?’ Lee asked the daemon. ‘I’m not here to experiment on you.’

The daemon regarded him through glassy eyes and made no response.

‘They’re doped up to the gills,’ muttered Lord Faa, voice suffused with anger. ‘This is going to be harder than we thought.’

‘Wilf, do you know what they’ve been given?’ Lee asked, turning back to the young man still cowering in the cage.

‘I – I’m not certain,’ the young man stammered. ‘Only that it’s a much higher dose than is safe. There’s a researcher, one with a lizard daemon – he was saying that the dosage was too high, it would kill a man…’

‘I might be able to purge it from his system,’ said Serafina, reaching for a pouch slung upon her shoulder along with her arrow holster. But before she could extract anything, Liam called from the doorway.

‘Someone’s coming!’ he hissed.

‘Everyone hide!’ said Lord Faa. The Gyptians and their daemons dived under worktables, Serafina disappeared, and Lee had just spied a convenient cupboard when he heard Wilf pleading with him.

‘No, don’t leave me here!’ the young man was begging.

‘We’re not going far. Hang on, kid,’ Lee whispered, and lunged for the cupboard, ducking inside with Hester and closing the door. Fortunately, it was empty of anything save a few cleaning implements and some lab coats hanging from a railing. Lee left the door open a sliver, so he could see and hear what was going on.

The _clack-clack_ of high-heeled shoes rang out seconds later. Lee swore silently. He knew who that sound heralded.

There were other footsteps ringing out alongside Mrs Coulter’s: at least two men, thudding along in heavy boots. Then: exclamations of annoyance, disconcertion, growing suspicion. The door to the lab opened.

‘Where the hell are they?’ growled someone, a man with a Scottish accent. ‘They know the rules, no more than one man to take a break at any one time! And the door unlocked – we should sound the alarm. You, doctor, go and find some security personnel.’

Lee heard Mrs Coulter’s footsteps snapping along the floor towards where he was hiding. He held his breath, but she passed his cupboard without pausing, to the cages. He heard the curtain rings rattle on their railing as she dragged it aside.

The leopard-daemon gave a feeble snarl. Lee heard Mrs Coulter’s exhalation of relief, and risked peering through the gap left in the door. He couldn’t see much but managed to spy Mrs Coulter wheeling round to confront whoever she had with her. Her daemon was by her side, peering round suspiciously, and Lee knew it was only a matter of time before he and everyone else was discovered.

‘What the _hell_ is this?’ came another familiar voice, and Lee realised with mingled gladness and apprehension that it was their ally, Dr Van Buskirk. The man was enraged, if his voice was anything to go by. Lee could hear his daemon flapping her wings.

‘There’s a man in a cage, for crying out loud!’ Van Buskirk snarled, and Lee heard him striding towards Mrs Coulter.

‘The next step of the research, Doctor, and I assure you, it is fully necessary,’ Mrs Coulter said coolly. Van Buskirk’s footsteps halted, and Lee could hear him breathing, harsh inhalations and exhalations as he hung onto his temper by his fingernails.

‘ _Necessary?_ No wonder you wouldn’t let me in here yesterday! This is the end of the line, Coulter! I’m letting this poor man out of here right now and the only way to stop me is to shoot me!’

‘One moment, please, doctor,’ said the man with the Scottish accent. ‘Perhaps Mrs Coulter has her reasons.’

‘Stick it up your arse and make a jug handle of it, MacPhail!’

Lee smirked. It was wiped from his face a moment later as he heard a scream of rage. It was not a human shriek, but one from a monkey. Then Van Buskirk’s daemon shrilled in pain, and Lee heard a cry of agony and a _thud_ that must have been the scholar hitting the ground.

Lee risked peering through the crack in the door again and winced at the sight. Van Buskirk was prone on the floor, trying bravely to rise to all fours. But his barn owl daemon was in the clutches of Mrs Coulter’s daemon. The monkey had sprung on her back and pinned her to a table just in front of the row of cages, and even now was twisting a delicate wing in its cunning paws.

‘That’s quite enough, doctor,’ Mrs Coulter purred. ‘Sometimes sacrifices must be made in the pursuit of knowledge, and this man is part of that pursuit.’

‘Go to hell!’ snarled Van Buskirk, then swore as the monkey daemon wrung his daemon’s wing a tiny bit further.

‘I have to admit, Mrs Coulter, I am wondering what precisely is going on here,’ said the other man, presumably MacPhail, his footsteps ringing out as he made his way towards the cages. ‘When the Consistorial Court agreed to fund the wolf hunt in Oxford, you failed to mention human experimentation. It is a disturbing development, given our aim is to wipe out the abominations living in Badbury Forest.’

 _Thrice damn it_ , Lee thought. The Consistorial Court of Discipline was one of the most feared and powerful bodies of the Magisterium. If the Council’s crusade against the wolves had _their_ backing, then the situation was worse than any of them had realised.

‘To defeat our enemy, we must first understand it,’ Mrs Coulter said, her voice as smooth as caramel. ‘Dr Van Buskirk has been most… helpful in divining the nature of the creature and it’s sacrilegious relations with its daemon. But I believe the threat is even greater than we surmised at first. You see, Father MacPhail, whilst the Magisterium’s efforts at wiping out the wolfwalkers have been largely successful, I have discovered a new threat, one created by their dark sorcery.’

The words seemed to linger in the air, dimming the brightness of the lab’s anbaric lights just a fraction. Lee couldn’t see Father MacPhail or Mrs Coulter, but he spied Van Buskirk gripping a table leg and hauling himself up onto his knees. He was within arm’s reach of Mrs Coulter’s daemon.

Lee, with extreme caution, moved his right hand to his holster, and drew his revolver. Van Buskirk’s righteous indignation had diverted Mrs Coulter’s attention from the missing guards, but she was bound to recall the strangeness of it in a few moments. And then they’d have to fight their way out, if she managed to summon reinforcements.

So, all the more reason to strike now. He wished there was some way of sending a signal to Serafina and the Gyptians. He’d just have to trust to their fighting skills when he went leaping out of the cupboard. But just as he was preparing to spring, MacPhail spoke again.

Lee stayed his hand, leaning forward ever-so-slightly so he could bring Mrs Coulter into his line of sight again. She was standing in front of the cages, facing someone just out of Lee’s vision.

‘What is this… dark sorcery?’ MacPhail enquired, his voice flat and unimpressed. ‘And why are we only learning of it now?’

‘Because until very recently, our theologians were unaware that such a possibility existed,’ Mrs Coulter answered. ‘Dr Van Burskirk’s research has encountered the possibility several times, in various accounts of berserkers and wolfwalkers, but we had no evidence of such. Until a few days ago.’

Lee saw Mrs Coulter turn to face the cages again. Her daemon held still, watching her, still clutching Van Buskirk’s daemon.

‘I had an… enlightening conversation with this daemon,’ Mrs Coulter said, her voice soft and almost dreamy. ‘It confessed something alarming. It told me that human beings can be corrupted, can be transfigured into beasts with the power to change their shape.’

Lee heard MacPhail gasp in theatrical horror.

‘Impossible!’ MacPhail uttered with the air of a man offering some profound insight. ‘To even _suggest_ that the form of man, created in the Authority’s image, could be perverted in such a manner, is an abominable heresy! Such a creature – if one could exist – would be an atrocity!’

Lee grimaced. He was getting damn tired of being called an atrocity, an abomination and what have you. He could sense Hester quivering with outrage.

‘Nonetheless, we must assess the risk that such transfiguration can occur, even if countless saints and theologians believed otherwise,’ continued Mrs Coulter. ‘Only by knowing how it occurs can we hope to prevent it. Hence this man’s presence. If he could be turned, if we can find the method… Hence my desire to remove these subjects from Jordan to the facility I have been preparing. That is why I requested you bring Magisterium personnel tonight. There is no time to waste.’

 _A likely story,_ thought Lee. He wondered what Mrs Coulter would do if she learned he had been transformed, not by any complicated scientific procedure, but by a simple bite. Then he decided he didn’t want to find out.

‘You are playing a dangerous game, Marisa,’ said MacPhail, voice hoarse and intent. ‘The risks of such knowledge… the thirst for such understanding damned all mankind in the Garden of Eden. It would be better to kill this foul thing here and now! Obliterate the wolfwalkers altogether and spare their future victims!’

‘And what if we find ourselves confronted with more wolfwalkers in the future? Poor, unfortunate human spirits damned by the curse inflicted upon them? Father MacPhail, you not only have the chance to save lives with this research, but people’s souls as well,’ Mrs Coulter argued, voice rich with conviction. ‘Surely in order to cure such a terrible evil, it is worth tolerating a lesser evil?’

There was another horrible pause. Lee eyed Van Buskirk. He’d managed to kneel and was taking slow, deep breaths. The man was working himself up to some action. Lee vowed to be ready to help him.

‘What exactly are you proposing?’ MacPhail enquired at last.

‘To divine their method of creating new wolfwalkers, naturally,’ Mrs Coulter answered. ‘The daemon hasn’t confided it to me, yet, but I’m sure she can be persuaded. We can confirm her veracity with this test subject, and then turn our attentions to finding a cure. And there is more… I believe that these creatures may hold the key to our research being conducted in New Holland.’

‘Hmm,’ said MacPhail. What he truly thought of Mrs Coulter’s proposal Lee was destined never to learn, for it was at that moment that Van Buskirk struck.

He lunged from his position on the floor and, unthinkably, grasped for Mrs Coulter’s daemon. He caught the monkey by the scruff of its neck and dragged off his daemon with force.

Mrs Coulter cried out. Lee heard a muttered exclamation from MacPhail and knew he could wait no longer. He swung open the cupboard door and leapt out, revolver at the ready.

‘Evening, people,’ he said laconically.

Lee took in the situation at a glance. Van Buskirk, teeth gritted and looking feral, was standing next to him, Mrs Coulter’s daemon dangling in his grip. His eyes widened when he saw Lee, but he made no other sign of recognition. Mrs Coulter, whether by chance or design, had fallen into MacPhail’s arms and he was holding her upright with some difficulty. Although she was not a large woman, she was deadweight in his grasp, Van Buskirk’s hold on her daemon sapping all her strength.

‘Who the devil are –’ MacPhail began. Lee cut him off.

‘That ain’t important. What _is_ important is what’s going to happen now,’ he said, watching with brief satisfaction as Lord Faa and Liam emerged from their hiding places. ‘We’re here for the wolfwalker and this young gentleman who’s been imprisoned against his will. We’ll be taking them and leaving you fine folks to your little contretemps, so let’s have no undue fussing.’

MacPhail, a severe-looking man austerely garbed in black, his lizard daemon clinging to his shoulder, glared at Lee, and if looks could maim Lee suspected he’d be missing all four limbs right about now. Liam had a gun trained on him and Mrs Coulter. Lord Faa was eyeballing everyone, falchion at the ready. Lee didn’t know where Serafina was but was willing to bet she was holding herself in readiness somewhere, in case of extra trouble. Van Buskirk was standing frozen, uncertain what to do next, and Lee saw the arm holding Mrs Coulter’s daemon droop a little.

He stepped in front of Van Buskirk, making sure his face was tilted away from MacPhail and mouthed _play along_. He pointed his revolver at the good doctor, although he left the safety on.

‘Keep a tight hold of that daemon, if you please,’ he said to Van Buskirk, despite his revulsion at the action. ‘I know it’s not pleasant, but the lady over there doesn’t strike me as the pleasant type.’

‘I know your voice,’ said Mrs Coulter, every word pushed out from between her lips by sheer force of will. Lee flicked a glance at her, and saw she’d managed to raise her head to glare at him. It was a shadow of a ghost of the malevolence that could play across her features, and it still made Lee’s stomach convulse.

‘You’re… you’re Scoresby. The hunter who made a fool out of Danvers last night,’ Mrs Coulter rasped. ‘You… you set a wolf free…’

‘And I’m about to do the same now,’ said Lee. ‘Just hold on a minute.’

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lord Faa and Liam trading tense looks. What the hell was taking Tony and Bram so long to cut the power? And where was Serafina Pekkala?

‘What’s your interest in these wolves?’ demanded MacPhail, shoving Mrs Coulter away from him and holding her upright by her arms. She swayed but managed to remain on her feet.

‘They owe me some money,’ jibed Lee. MacPhail looked pained.

Lee looked back at Van Buskirk to check on him. He was alarmed to see the man mouthing words in his turn: _hurry up!_

‘Lee, I hear footsteps,’ whispered Hester. ‘At least five men.’

Lee heard them a moment later. Yes, at least five men, all talking in low voices as they approached the lab.

‘We’ve got company!’ he informed Lord Faa – and hopefully, Serafina. Lord Faa went to stand by the door, while Liam kept his gun trained on MacPhail and Mrs Coulter. Lee stepped back a couple of paces, keeping his revolver pointed at Van Buskirk but ready to spin round and shoot if needed.

The door to the lab swung open.

Then the lights went out, and darkness spread itself over the scene. Or it tried to. Lee blinked a few times and realised his eyes had already adjusted to the diminished light. Another handy ability conferred by being a wolfwalker, he guessed.

‘What in heaven’s name?’ sputtered MacPhail. Lee did not hesitate. He shouldered Van Buskirk aside and ran to the cages. He didn’t allow himself to think, just shot the lock on the cage holding Wilf. The poor man yelped as the bullet struck its target with a loud _clang._ Lee grasped open the door of his cage and wrenched it open, before moving onto the cage with Asriel’s daemon.

‘Open fire!’ cried someone and the next moment flashes of fire lit up the far end of the lab. A shot whizzed past Lee, so close he felt the air it displaced brushing his cheek. He dived for the floor. He saw Dr Van Buskirk standing, stupefied at the sudden turn of events, and lunged. He grabbed the scholar by the belt and pulled him down to the ground.

Van Buskirk landed heavily and lost his grip on Mrs Coulter’s daemon. The monkey went sprinting away with a yowl out of outrage. The barrage of gunfire continued. Lee cast round, trying to find a target, but there were too many tables and bits of equipment in the way.

Then one man gurgled, hands rising to clutch at the arrow that had suddenly embedded itself in his throat. He fell to the floor and the other men all sank into crouches, scanning the room for the unseen threat. One man fired several bullets at random down the room, hoping to startle someone into revealing themselves.

‘Hold your fire, you fools!’ snarled Mrs Coulter’s voice, ringing out from near the floor. The shots ceased at once.

Lee risked a glance around a table leg, trying to see who was shooting at them. Three men left, all in the garb of the Magisterium, and a fourth man lurking in the doorway, clad in the dark robes of a scholar.

Abruptly Serafina was at his side, bow and arrow in hand as she crouched low, shielding herself from potential gunfire.

‘There will be more guards on the way,’ she murmured to him. ‘Let the Gyptians deal with these men. You and I must free Asriel and the boy. Asriel is drugged and the young man too frightened to move.’

‘Got it,’ Lee nodded.

‘What the hell is going on?’ cried the man in the doorway. ‘Julian, are you in there?’

‘I’m here!’ cried Van Buskirk. ‘Master, keep out!’

‘We are being invaded!’ shouted Mrs Coulter. ‘There are men trying to sabotage our research here! Send someone to put the power back on!’

‘Not bloody likely!’ shouted Liam, who had also taken cover when the guards arrived. He popped up from his hiding place and shot one guard neatly in the chest. The man cried out and dropped like a dead bird to the floor. The other men raised their weapons, but before they could do anything Mrs Coulter, with the bound of a tiger, leapt on Liam and began clawing at his face.

‘Shit!’ cursed Lee. He was about to crawl to Liam’s aid when he felt someone tugging at his coat. He turned to see Serafina Pekkala pointing a long finger at the cages holding the wolf and its daemon, both of them hunkered low as they watched the crazy scene transpiring in front of them.

Lee fired off two shots, one for each lock. He was rewarded by another volley of bullets from the two remaining Magisterium guards, but his aim was true, and the locks were shot off. Serafina did not hesitate but slid over the floor to wrench both doors open before turning to where poor Wilf, frozen in terror, was crouched.

Lee turned his attention back to the battle. Liam and Mrs Coulter were rolling around on the ground, hitting and kicking at one another, the monkey-daemon screeching fit to make peoples’ ears bleed, when all of a sudden there was a _thump_ and the monkey fell silent.

‘Crazy bitch,’ muttered Lord Faa, who had crawled over to the brawl and settled things by hitting Mrs Coulter on the back of the head with the handle of his blade. Liam shoved her bodily to the floor with a groan of relief. Lee cast about for MacPhail but didn’t see him.

‘Guys, help me take out the guards!’ he shouted, and leaned round the bench and fired. He hadn’t taken the time to aim, but luck was on his side. His shot struck one man in the leg and sent him sprawling on the floor. There was a shriek of surprise, and Lee realised that MacPhail was crawling along the length of the lab to the doorway. The one remaining guard broke and ran for safety, MacPhail at his heels.

‘Help me hold the door!’ cried Lord Faa, rising to his feet and drawing his own gun at last. Liam strode over to the guard Lee had shot, then bent over and punched him into unconsciousness. He rose and pointed his weapon at the door, in readiness. At the far end of the room Lee and Van Buskirk dragged themselves to their feet to assess the situation.

Serafina had just managed to persuade the shell-shocked Wilf out of his cage and was supporting him where he stood. Asriel and his daemon hadn’t moved yet, but as Lee turned to speak to Asriel again, the snow leopard-daemon ventured forward, placing a tentative paw outside her prison.

‘Free,’ she murmured, hardly daring to believe it. ‘ _Free_!’

She hauled herself out of the cage, and a moment later with a triumphant growl, the wolf joined her, leaping out of confinement to land clumsily on the slippery floor. Then both of them bolted for the exit.

‘Son of a bitch!’ cursed Lee.

Shouts rang out from the corridor, and a gunshot exploded into the dark. Serafina Pekkala left Wilf’s side (the poor kid would have fallen like a felled tree if Van Buskirk hadn’t grabbed him) and ran to the doorway, notching an arrow onto her bow as she went. She lifted her weapon, aimed, fired. The strangely soft sound of a body hitting the floor reached Lee’s ears, and he knew the last guard was dead.

‘Come on, everyone!’ Serafina commanded.

The Gyptians ran to join her at the door. Lee caught hold of Van Buskirk’s shoulder.

‘Doc, I’d be mighty grateful if you’d agree to be a hostage and help us get out of here,’ he whispered. ‘Besides, it might be in your best interests to come with us. Ain’t no way Mrs Coulter will forgive you for what you did tonight.’

Van Buskirk gawped at him, visibly shocked by the suggestion, but his daemon leapt onto his shoulder and murmured something in his ear. He nodded, expression rearranging itself into one of resolve.

‘I’ll help you escape,’ he agreed. ‘After that – I’ll see.’

‘Fair enough,’ shrugged Lee, and helped Van Buskirk to shepherd the bewildered Wilf over to the door. The Gyptians ushered all three of them through, and Lee aimed his revolver at Van Buskirk. He’d have to apologise to the poor man when all this was over. Never point your weapon at anything you didn’t mean to shoot, that was the inalienable rule of handling a gun, and he was breaking it a dozen times over.

He pushed Van Buskirk and Wilf ahead of him and stepped through the door with his gun trained on them. The corridor was dimly lit by some sort of emergency illumination that lent everything a sickly greenish tint. Across the way, he saw MacPhail and a man who must be the Master of Jordan standing facing the wall, hands up in the air. Serafina was standing watch over them, an arrow notched on her bowstring. The guard was lying face down on the floor, his daemon vanished. There was no sign of Asriel or his daemon.

‘Evening, gentlemen,’ said Lee, taking in the situation at a glance. ‘You two are going to remain there until we’re free and clear of this place. I’m making sure of this by taking the good doctor here along as insurance. Any attempt to follow us, you call for any backup, and I’ll shoot his gigantic brains out. That clear?’

Van Buskirk glanced back at Lee worriedly. Lee winked at him.

‘No!’ cried the Master, his raven-daemon cawing in distress. ‘Leave him with us, I beg you. My word of honour we won’t attempt to interfere with your escape.’

‘I’d accept your word, sir, but I ain’t too sure about your Magisterium friend next to you,’ Lee said, trying to sound ruthless. ‘No, the doc’s coming with us.’

‘I’ll be fine, Dr Carne,’ said Van Buskirk, rather tremulously. ‘Don’t worry about me. Or at least try not to.’

‘Julian…’ the Master murmured, only to break off with a grunt as MacPhail lashed out at him with his foot. Lee scowled and aimed a kick at MacPhail’s backside, very much enjoying the pained yelp this generated.

‘Go, all of you,’ said Serafina, before any more horseplay could commence. ‘I will join you in a moment.’

‘Come on,’ said Lord Faa, reaching for Wilf and lifting him in his arms as if Wilf were no more than a child. Lee took hold of Van Buskirk’s arm in a gentle hold and together they jogged down the corridor after the Gyptians, Hester running alongside Lee and Lithiel flying on before them. As soon as they rounded the corner, Lee let go of Van Buskirk and lowered his revolver.

‘Sorry about that, doc,’ he murmured as they ran. ‘Come on, the Gyptians will take us someplace safe. Where now, Lord Faa?’

‘Back to the boats,’ Lord Faa informed him. ‘It’s not what we planned, but the place above will be crawling with guards and security forces. At least this way it’ll take them a while to find us.’

‘What about Asriel?’ Lee asked, dismay gripping him at the thought of facing Lyra and telling her that her father wasn’t with them.

There was a rustle of silk and suddenly Serafina was amongst them.

‘I will search for Asriel and his daemon,’ she said. ‘Get out, all of you. I will meet you outside, on the river.’

The authority in her voice was such that everyone nodded agreement, even Van Buskirk.

‘Take care, ma’am,’ answered Lee. Serafina nodded and melded with the shadows. Lee, the Gyptians and their new recruits ran on into the darkness of the cellars, towards the river and rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A glut of mental casting for this chapter:
> 
> Bram Garrod - Stephen McGann  
> Derrick Volantyne - Will Lawther  
> Liam - Noel Clarke  
> Father Hugh MacPhail - Will Keen  
> Wilfred Bachelot - Jeremy Irvine  
> Dr Carne - Clarke Peters
> 
> Well, I hope this fulfils my promise to shift the action into high gear! There's more to come - especially since our heroes need to get Asriel out of Oxford before he runs into more danger...
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	19. Wolves in Jericho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drugged and panicked Asriel is lost in Oxford. Lee and Lyra turn into wolves to help him, but the forces of the Council and Magisterium are gathering...
> 
> WARNING: this chapter contains a lot of violence again, treat with caution if necessary.

'What's magical, sometimes, has deeper roots

than reason.'

'Such Silence,' Mary Oliver 

Their motley group made it to the cellars without encountering anyone and fled through the arch down to the river. Bram and Tony were waiting by the boats, and as they approached Lee saw Lyra standing up, eager for a glimpse of Asriel.

‘What happened?’ cried Bram as Lord Faa leapt into his boat and handed Wilf over to Reuben. Liam only paused to undo the mooring rope before leaping in himself. Lee dragged Van Buskirk over to the craft where Iorek and the others were waiting, shoving the scholar in headfirst when he balked at the sight of the armoured bear. He followed Liam’s lead, undid the rope binding them to the post and jumped in himself, Hester alongside him.

‘Where’s my father?’ demanded Lyra, ignoring Ma Costa’s efforts to make her sit down. ‘And what’s Dr Van Buskirk doing here?’

‘Get going, Derrick, Reuben! We need to leave here fast!’ called Lord Faa. The Gyptians started the engines and the boats began to move. Lyra was searching the entrance to the college with frantic eyes, and for a frightening moment Lee thought she was going to leap ashore and go to fetch her father.

Ma Costa fastened strong fingers on the back of Lyra’s coat and pulled her back down into the bottom of the boat, just missing Iorek. Lee breathed a little easier.

‘Sit down, or you’ll unbalance us!’ Ma Costa hissed. ‘Mr Scoresby, what’s happened? Where’s Asriel and the witch?’

‘Asriel? I bloody _knew_ it!’ swore Van Buskirk, then cursed again as the boat swayed in the current and nearly tipped him over the side.

‘Things got complicated,’ Lee admitted to Ma Costa as the boat picked up speed. ‘We ran into Mrs Coulter and some Magisterium muscle. We managed to get Asriel out of the lab, and that poor boy Lord Faa’s got with him, but Asriel was drugged, and he took off without us. Serafina’s looking for him now.’

‘No!’ cried Lyra. ‘They’ll try to kill him! We have to find him!’

‘Let’s get out of here first,’ Ma Costa said firmly. ‘ _Then_ we’ll search for Asriel.’

Lyra looked distraught, but she didn’t make any further protests, realising their futility. Pan, in the form of a spaniel, snuggled against her, trying to comfort her. Lee set his jaw and peered into the darkness ahead, trying to make out where they were going. He could see the purplish, yellow-edged glow of night up ahead. A few moments later the boats emerged from underneath Jordan College and out into the fresh night air of Oxford.

Lee sucked in a few deep breaths, savouring the cool breeze on his face and the loveliness of the water glimmering below them, and then he turned to face the riverbank on his side of the boat.

‘Everyone keep your eyes peeled for Asriel or Serafina,’ he said. Lyra turned at once to scan the opposite bank, and despite the unlikelihood of the intoxicated Asriel heading along the river, they searched for any sign, any movement that might have indicated a wolf or its daemon.

The boats chugged along for a few more minutes with no sign of Asriel or Serafina Pekkala. Then Lee realised they were veering off down a narrow culvert, away from the high walls of the Oxford colleges. The lead boat, which held John Faa, Wilf, Bram, Tony and Liam, stuttered to a halt. Derrick drew alongside and cut the power to the engine, leaving the boats bobbing on the dark water. Iorek’s white fur was almost luminous even in the shadows, and Derrick threw the tarpaulin back over him as cover.

‘We need to split up,’ Lord Faa said without preamble. ‘Mr Scoresby, Bram, Liam, we four will search for the wolf and its daemon. The rest of you must head back to St John’s Lock and hide until it’s safe. You, scholar –’

‘Julian Van Buskirk.’

‘Van Buskirk, I’ll let you go ashore here if you wish. But given your actions against Mrs Coulter tonight, I strongly advise you to come with us. She isn’t a forgiving woman from what I’ve seen, and she has the power to hurt you. We can hide you.’

Van Buskirk faltered, looking from Lord Faa to the riverbank. Lithiel hopped up onto his shoulder and whispered to him.

‘We should go with them,’ she said. ‘At least for a while. It isn’t safe back at Jordan. It hasn’t been for a long time.’

‘What, I should just run away and leave my life behind?’ Van Buskirk protested.

‘You won’t have a life to leave if you go back,’ Lee interrupted, not seeing the point in diplomacy. ‘The woman’s insane. She’ll kill you for defying her.’

Van Buskirk blanched, but his daemon nodded her agreement.

‘She’s right, Julian,’ she murmured. ‘We have to flee. We always knew this day might come and now it’s here.’

‘I – very well, I’ll stay with you,’ Van Buskirk blurted. Lee nodded approval and turned to climb ashore. Ahead, he saw Lord Faa and the Gyptians doing the same.

‘Let me come with you!’ Lyra cried as he set foot on the bank. But Lee shook his head.

‘Not part of our deal, Lyra,’ he said shortly.

‘But I can – mmph!’

Ma Costa had reached for Lyra and enfolded her in a fierce embrace.

‘Oh no you don’t!’ she informed the squirming Lyra, as her daemon shrieked agreement. ‘You’re coming with us!’

‘Thanks ma’am,’ Lee said, relieved. ‘Lord Faa, where should we start looking?’

Lord Faa was about to take command of their ramshackle rescue party, when a scream sounded from somewhere in the vicinity of the colleges, back across the river. A heartbeat later, Serafina Pekkala landed upon the waterside.

‘I found Asriel,’ she said without pausing for greetings. ‘Kasia is watching over him and his daemon. But I could not persuade him to come with me – whatever drugs he has been given, they have stolen his understanding. He’s running through Oxford searching for an escape. He’s already been spotted, and it won’t be long before the forces of the law are hunting him.’

‘Hell,’ cursed Lee. ‘We need to get him out of there as quick as we can.’

‘Could we lure him out – with food, perhaps?’ suggested Lord Faa.

‘No,’ rumbled Iorek from beneath his tarpaulin. ‘He will not pay attention if he’s running for his life.’

‘Do we have tranquilisers anywhere?’ queried Bram.

‘Even if we did, and we somehow managed to shoot him, how the hell are we supposed to get a wolf and a leopard daemon out of Oxford without being seen?’ demanded Liam.

‘What about trapping him in a net?’ piped up Derrick. Tony shook his head.

‘We didn’t bring any, and it’d take too long to fetch them,’ he pointed out.

Everyone fell silent, stymied. Then Lyra squirmed out of Ma Costa’s grasp and jumped onto the riverbank.

‘Can you make me sleep?’ she demanded of Serafina, her expression fierce.

‘Whatcha got in mind, kid?’ asked Lee before the witch-queen could respond.

‘You say Father’s not understanding us, that he’s operating on instinct,’ Lyra explained hastily, words tumbling over each other in her urgency. ‘That means he won’t trust any humans, especially ones he doesn’t know. But he’ll trust a pack member. He’ll trust me as a wolf.’

‘Ah, dammit,’ said Lee, more in exasperation than anger. For Lyra was right, he saw that straight away. Their options had narrowed to two: firstly, leave Asriel to find his own way out of town and hope for the best, something that would almost certainly result in Lyra’s father being killed by police or hunters. Or secondly, Lyra could turn wolf and lead her father to safety. As much as Lee hated the idea of Lyra running such a risk, she was the only one with a hope of rescuing Asriel.

‘Lyra is right,’ said Serafina Pekkala at once. ‘Asriel will follow another wolfwalker, especially his daughter. It is his only chance.’

‘What? No, you can’t!’ cried Ma Costa.

‘We’ve no choice, ma’am,’ said Lee, his tone so authoritative than even Lord Faa didn’t offer any dispute. ‘It’s Asriel’s only chance, and Lyra’s the only one who can do it. Serafina, ma’am, can you put us to sleep?’

‘Sleep? Both of you? Why?’ blurted Derrick, eyes and mouth round with surprise. Lee spied Van Buskirk out of the corner of his eye, watching them avidly. The scholar was about to get the surprise of his life. Lee hoped like mad that the good doctor could keep his mouth shut.

‘I can,’ Serafina confirmed. ‘Once I have done so, I will fly above Oxford and help you however I can.’

‘Much appreciated,’ said Lee. Lyra grinned roguishly, and Lee was torn between grinning back and shaking some sense into her.

‘Ma Costa, me and Mr Scoresby are going to fall asleep now, and we need you to take our bodies back to St John’s Lock,’ said Lyra, spinning round and climbing back into the boat in readiness, ignoring the poor woman’s obvious worry. ‘We’ll come back as soon as we’ve rescued my father.’

‘I will guard you both as you sleep,’ growled Iorek.

‘Thanks, old fellow,’ said Lee, and stepped back into the boat. He squeezed himself alongside Lyra, Van Buskirk and Ma Costa shuffling backwards to make room, and lay down, Hester curling up on his chest as she always did.

‘You coming with us, Hester?’ he murmured to her.

‘Don’t talk stupid, Lee. I’ll be with you all the way.’

He pressed a quick kiss to her head and leaned back. A moment later, he saw Serafina leaning over him and Lyra. The witch placed one hand on his forehead and one on Lyra’s.

‘Close your eyes, both of you,’ she told them, and Lee did so. He heard Serafina reciting something in an unfamiliar language, something that turned all his limbs to smoke, left him feeling weightless and insubstantial. Lee felt his awareness fade, as his mind began to drift from the waking world into the sleeping world. For a moment, all was dark and utterly silent.

And then he felt himself rising upwards, out of the dark and the quiet and back into the wild strange night, surrounded by a scholar and an armoured bear and a witch and Gyptians and found himself a wolf on the riverbank. Lyra was standing beside him, also a wolf.

_Come on, Mr Scoresby!_ Lyra cried, and ran off down the riverside, Pantalaimon as a hare beside her. Lee took off after her, Hester running alongside him, the exclamations of shock and amazement from the humans in the boats chasing them as they ran. They bolted down the culvert, back to the tributary leading under Jordan. As soon as they reached it, however, Lyra veered away from the water, heading inland.

_There’s a bridge across the river and into town just up ahead,_ she explained as they sped across the scrubland that lay between the colleges and the river. _We’ll be in the centre of town in no time._

_And out of it in no time, I hope,_ Lee said in return, and ran as fast as he could after Lyra and into the blazing lights and treeless streets and high stone walls of Oxford, as alien to wolves as the forest at night was to humans.

Except Lee Scoresby wasn’t just a wolf, and he wasn’t just a man, not any longer. He was something else entirely, something ferocious and powerful, and he’d protect Lyra with his life. And with that thought foremost in his mind, he ran on.

###

Lyra took the lead into Oxford. Although she’d been gone for a year, her memory of its streets and buildings and layout was flawless, almost innate, and she ran along the alleyways and pavements with utter surety. Above them, Serafina Pekkala flew at a low height, so as to pass unnoticed by any humans but allow the wolves to keep her in view as she directed them towards Asriel.

The streets were quiet for the most part around the colleges, save a tipsy under-scholar or two. The wolves moved so fast they vanished in an eyeblink, leaving the under-scholars to wonder if they were hallucinating. But the further into Oxford Serafina led them, the busier it became. There were plenty of people out on the streets, despite the late hour: drinkers, revellers, men and women working the night shift, police officers patrolling. Lyra and Lee stuck to the shadows as much as they could, running swiftly past onlookers, hoping they’d be mistaken for dogs.

_We’re heading towards Jericho!_ Lyra cried as she leapt over a stack of crates and bolted down a side alley. _That’s in the direction of the woods, Father’s going the right way even if he doesn’t know it._

_Let’s hope that makes our job easier, kid._

As if to give the lie to Lee’s words, shouts and screams rang out from a few streets ahead. Lyra quickened her pace. Despite her smaller size, she had a tremendous turn of speed and Lee had to work hard to keep up. He was glad Lyra knew Oxford so well, for it was dizzying, disorientating, racing through the city as a wolf. Everything was out of proportion, at the wrong angle, and the noise and the odours and the glare of a thousand naptha and anbaric lights were dazzling. Without Lyra to focus on, to guide him…

Something smashed on the cobbles across the way, and Lee flinched away from it, from the sharpness and suddenness of the noise. He stumbled and nearly lost his footing, but abruptly Hester was there in front and to the left of him, slowing ever-so-slightly so she could look him in the eye.

‘Steady, Lee!’ she cried as she ran, not even breathing hard. ‘Follow me!’

Lee did as she said, focusing on Hester’s long-legged form sprinting ahead of him. He’d always thought of his daemon as a gangly, scruffy creature for all that Hester was beautiful to him, but now he saw her anew. Hester’s speed, her grace and fluidity, the sheer strength those thin legs contained… Being a wolf was making him see a hell of a lot of things differently. It was… good.

Then he forgot his changing views of the world as he and Lyra skidded round a corner and were confronted with an open square, thronged with people. Luckily most of them had their backs to the wolfwalkers, and he and Lyra brought themselves to a halt and slunk off to one side of the square, camouflaged by shadow. The crowd was agitated, milling round, jostling for a better view or to put distance between themselves and something else. They were noisy, muttering, shouting, shrieking, yelling suggestions or demands. And they were afraid. Lee could _smell_ their fear, a reek of sweat and blood thrumming beneath skin and clammy flesh. A moment later, Lee heard the reason for their fear.

Two roars of absolute fury ripped the night apart. One was high-pitched, almost shrill and unmistakeably feline. The other was deeper, rougher and consisted of pure, unalloyed viciousness. A good many people screamed.

_Hell!_ Lee cursed. _Lyra, can you see him anywhere?_

_No!_ she cried back. _Come on, this way!_

She led the way around the outskirts of the crowd, generating a few shrieks of surprise as she went. Lee was aware that he was attracting unwelcome attention due to his size. He could see people’s shocked faces in the periphery of his vision, of shouts and exclamations from the stupefied townsfolk.

Despite the horde of people, they managed to navigate to the opposite side of the square. The crowd wasn’t so dense here, and Lee could see past the milling people to an empty spot in the centre. A great brown wolf was standing there, every hair on its back standing on end, snarling like a devil and at its side was a great snow leopard-daemon, yellow eyes blazing, and teeth bared. They both looked enraged beyond all reason.

The crowd surged forward, and one unlucky man was shoved towards Asriel, his arms windmilling. The wolfwalker, seeing a threat, snapped at the man’s arm with enough force to sever a hand. His teeth caught in the man’s sturdy leather jacket and ripped a piece from it, though thankfully Lee couldn’t smell any blood. The man screamed and threw himself backwards, everyone in the crowd jostling and pushing as they tried to retreat. The situation was rapidly descending into a riot.

_Lyra, we’ve got to get him outta here, or someone’s gonna get killed!_ Lee exclaimed.

_We need him to see us!_ Lyra said, preparing to dart forward. But even as she spoke, Asriel crouched in readiness for a spring. Lee realised what he was about to do a moment before he did it.

Lee bolted forward as Asriel leapt for the man whose jacket he’d torn. The poor fellow’s terrier daemon howled in fear. Lee didn’t waste time on thought. He bounded straight for Asriel and the two wolves collided in mid-air.

Asriel was knocked sideways and went sprawling on the cobbles. Lee landed heavily on his feet, but without injury. Asriel’s daemon growled at him, fearless in her rage, and Hester scuttled beneath Lee’s belly to hide from both the crowd and the leopard-daemon’s vengeance.

A gunshot rang out and a bullet sparked off the cobbles near Lee. More howls of fear, and Lee winced at the noise.

‘Hold your fire you idiots!’ yelled someone official-sounding. ‘There’s too many people about!’

‘Aye, don’t shoot!’ cried one man in Lee’s line of sight, a grizzled old man with a great black dog for a daemon, one not unlike a wolf. ‘Can’t you fools see the black one’s protecting us?’

_Thanks sir,_ thought Lee, even though the man couldn’t hear him. Then he startled as he realised a burly man with a bulldog daemon was pointing a revolver at him, lips curled in a derisive smirk.

Lee tensed for another spring, but before he could do more than think about it, a hazy shadow darted down from the night sky, hovered before the gunman for an instant, and then rocketed upwards, leaving the man blinking stupidly at his now empty hand. Lee growled at him, and the man gulped and fell back a few paces.

Lee turned back to where Asriel was climbing to his feet, shaking himself and peering at Lee. He was still frightened, confused, angry but he made no further moves to attack and Lee hoped the blow had knocked some sense into him.

Then Lyra was there, Pantalaimon a mouse clinging to her fur. She ran over to Asriel, though she didn’t dare nuzzle against him.

_Father!_ She cried. _Father, it’s me, Lyra! Come with me! Come with us back to the forest!_

Asriel stared down at her, not approaching her but not growling or backing off either. The snow leopard-daemon forgot to menace Lee and turned to look at Lyra, standing small and fearless before Asriel and a crowd that could turn nasty at any given moment. Lee glanced anxiously at the people surrounding them, every instinct, human and wolfish, urging him to flee, hide, do anything but stand here. Only the sheer strangeness of the three wolves in the centre of town was holding the multitude in suspense.

_Father!_ Lyra said again, creeping a little closer. _It’s Lyra! I know you’re confused, but you_ must _listen! Come with me now!_

There was a shuffling in the midst of the crowd, and Lee’s ears picked up the heavy tramp of men marching in unison – police, or Magisterium guards.

_Lyra, we’ve gotta hurry this up,_ he said. Lyra didn’t acknowledge him, wholly occupied in coaxing Asriel to go with them. Lee gritted his teeth. Every moment they were exposed out here, they were in terrible danger, even with Serafina Pekkala serving as reinforcements.

‘Lee, we’re gonna have to make a break for it any moment,’ whispered Hester.

_Lyra will never leave her father!_ Lee realised, stomach sinking.

‘You’ll have to grab her and drag her with us. She’ll struggle, but you’re big enough to carry her.’

It was the only thing he could do, Lee realised. There was no sense in three dying if two could live, no matter how much Lyra might hate him for it –

Then Asriel’s daemon spoke.

‘Lyra?’ she asked, so quietly that only the wolfwalkers could hear her.

_Yes! It’s me, Stelmaria!_ Lyra exclaimed, tail wagging with excitement. _Now, you’ve got to run! There’s danger here!_

‘Yes… yes!’ Stelmaria murmured. ‘Run. We must run!’

By her side, the brown wolf pricked its ears up and gazed round, seeming to take in its surroundings properly for the first time: the crowds, the public space, the two wolves standing before it, the approach of the guards –

‘Let us through! We shall slay these foul beasts!’ shouted someone. No, not someone.

_Danvers,_ groaned Lee. _Now it’s a real party. Asriel, Lyra, come the hell on!_

A voice that was not Lyra’s echoed in his mind then.

_I will… I will follow._

_Good! Let’s go!_ Lyra yelped. She bolted away towards the edge of the square, and the leopard daemon followed her. The brown wolf, still dazed, didn’t move at once, but as the bond between him and his daemon tugged at him, he snarled and began to run, paws sliding on cobbles but at first but then beginning to run with greater confidence.

Lee turned to follow, risked a quick glance over his shoulder to where Danvers, at the head of a column of Magisterium security forces, had just burst onto the scene. Danvers’s face was contorted in a peculiar kind of triumph.

‘They are agents of the devil! Shoot them!’ the Alderman cried, and the closest guards obediently raised their rifles to their shoulders. A few brave people shouted ‘no!’ or ‘wait!’ but most people tried to run, pushing and shoving, knocking others over their haste to get to safety.

‘Time to go!’ shouted Hester, and together they ran after Lyra and Asriel. They dodged round a few gawkers, leapt over a fox daemon who’d flattened himself against the ground, ducked under a railing dividing square from pavement and charged down a street branching off from the square. He heard Danvers shrieking orders, people screaming and shouting and then gunfire –

Bullets struck and ricocheted off the paved street directly behind him. Others sailed past him, seeking out living things to embed themselves in. Horribly, Lee could hear cries of pain from the square, where some bystanders must have been shot. And above the clamour, the _thud-thud-thud_ of men running, of pursuit.

Lee ran after Lyra and Asriel, their flight witnessed by dozens of people and their daemons silhouetted in doorways, leaning out of windows to watch and marvel. They were attracting too much attention, Lee thought grimly. Even if they succeeded in leaving Danvers and his troops behind, sooner or later they would encounter police officers or hunters or just some trigger-happy citizen and then things would turn bloody and potentially fatal.

_Lyra, we need to get off the streets,_ Lee called to her.

_Just a bit further!_ Lyra shouted back. _We’ll soon be in Port Meadow and then we can cut through to –_

The cadre of men with rifles loomed seemingly out of nowhere, blocking their path. Lyra and Asriel balked, skidding to a halt as their paws failed to find purchase on the stone beneath them. Lee, pelting up behind them, saw the two men in the lead raise their weapons, ready to fire.

He gathered all his formidable strength and leapt. He sailed over Lyra and Asriel and their daemons and collided with the two hunters – for they were hunters, he could smell leather and earth and gunpowder – knocking them flat. Their rifles fired, the sound blasting his sensitive ears and the flash from the muzzles blinding him for a brief, precious moment. Then his vision cleared, and his left shoulder screamed, and Lee realised he’d been hit.

He heard Hester whimpering in pain, and his heart ached for her. Then a savage snarl sounded, and a scream of fear from someone nearby.

Lee realised he’d collapsed on top of the two men he’d pounced upon. Both were motionless but breathing. Only stunned, then. He raised his head and saw that Asriel had seized the rifle of another hunter in his powerful jaws. As Lee watched, Asriel tore the man’s weapon from his hands and flung it aside, where it slid over the pavement, well out of reach. Stelmaria, enraged, roared at him and the man broke and ran.

There were two men left, and although armed they were panicky, afraid of these wolves who didn’t behave like wolves, their rifles waving in the air, unable to decide what to aim at – Asriel, Stelmaria, Lee or Lyra. Asriel growled at them and they retreated a few paces, but raised their rifles, ready to fire.

Then a dark blur flowed past them and abruptly they were empty-handed, defenceless. A moment later Serafina Pekkala landed on the street between them and the wolves, and a chorus of exclamations and shouts went up from the hunters and the people thronging the streets. But Serafina wasn’t afraid. She stood tall, an arrow notched to her bowstring, ready to protect the wolves against all threats. Lee felt absurdly grateful for her presence.

_Mr Scoresby! Mr Scoresby! Lee! Stand up! Come on, you have to run!_

Lyra, frightened and almost tearful. Her pleas brought Lee back to himself, and he stood, favouring his left foreleg. He placed it on the ground and though his shoulder burned, his leg was steady underneath him, so he wasn’t too badly hurt.

_Hester?_ Lee called. _You all right?_

‘Fine and dandy, Lee,’ she said, hopping into view. ‘The bullet grazed you, it’s not stuck in there. You’ve had worse.’

A moment later Lyra was pressing herself against his good side, whining in fear, Pantalaimon a mouse, clinging grimly to her fur. Lee nuzzled her back quickly, and then turned business-like.

_Lyra, we need to get off the streets. Can we go over rooftops, or through the sewers maybe?_

_No, I don’t know any routes through – wait, there’s a drainage pipe that runs from near here to Port Meadow, they built it years ago, after the Great Flood! Can you run? You have to run!_

_I’ll manage, kid. Get your father and let’s go!_

Lyra yapped at Asriel, and the brown wolf turned from menacing the hunters to look at her quizzically.

_Follow me, all of you!_ Lyra cried, and took off down an alleyway to her left. Lee followed her and realised with relief that Asriel was trailing them. Better still, the alley was devoid of people, and the wolfwalkers ran unmolested through the crooked passageway and into another, broader street lined with shops rather than private residences. There were fewer people about, and the wolfwalkers ran along the thoroughfare and turned left again into a rundown cul-de-sac, shabby boarded-up storefronts the only things confronting them. At the very end was a high concrete embankment with a battered grate shielding a large pipe – high enough for a grown man to stand upright in.

_Come on, quick!_ cried Lyra, and limping up, Lee saw that the bottom corner of the grate was bent and twisted upwards, forming a small opening. He regarded it dubiously. As a man he could probably have squashed himself through, but now…

_You’ll fit!_ Lyra told him, as if sensing his doubt. _Go on, Lee!_

_Not a chance, kid. You go first. You’re the one who knows the way and your father might not follow me._

Lyra whined again, but then slipped through the opening into the tunnel. Asriel went next, and it was a tight squeeze, but he managed it, Stelmaria slithering after him like a ghost. Lee braced himself and inserted head and shoulders into the narrow gap.

His shoulder, already burning, blazed with pain and he couldn’t repress a cry of agony, but he pushed with all four of his strong limbs and realised he was moving forward, wriggling through the gap until his wide shoulders were through and then the rest of his slimmer frame followed more easily. Then he was in the tunnel, his wound hurting but otherwise fine. He could hear Hester beside him, paws slapping softly in the trickle of water flowing down the channel.

_We did it!_ Lyra called from up ahead, somewhere in the Stygian darkness that was man’s creation, utterly dissimilar to the darkling shade of the forest at night. _Now, follow me! Once we get into Port Meadow, it’s a quick run to open country, and the security forces won’t catch up with us there!_

Lee heard her move off and followed after the sound, relying on his wolfish hearing. He could hear Asriel and Stelmaria just in front of him, Lyra a bit further on, could feel the water flowing feebly round his paws. There was no sound of pursuit, no shouts or footsteps or gunshots, and he began to breathe a little easier.

The tunnel was a long one – Lee reckoned about three-quarters of a mile – but the wolfwalkers passed through it speedily. Within a few minutes, the scent of fresh air and grass reached them, and the darkness grew less absolute, fading to grey and then purplish. Then the tunnel exit appeared before them. There was no grate guarding it this time, and the wolves emerged into a culvert filled with shallow, brackish water, surrounded by a few straggling saplings and the detritus of children and teenagers. Sweet wrappers and burn spots where fires had been lit, frayed ropes hanging from tree branches.

But ahead of them lay what must be Port Meadow. Down a steep slope, stretching away into the distance, were verdant grasslands, and about a mile away a river winding its way through the landscape, bordered by tall, proud trees. It was devoid of human presence, yet alive and bustling with a thousand different creatures. Lee could hear them: mice, rabbits, snakes, owls, nightjars, dozens of insects, all going about their business under a moon swelling to fullness.

_I think we’ve gotten away,_ said Lyra. _Come on, through the Meadow. We’ll go on for a bit further and then head for St John’s Lock. As soon as we’re human, I’ll heal your wound, Mr Scoresby._

_I’d appreciate it,_ Lee winced, as the wolves began to pick their way down the slope. Asriel was much calmer now, less skittish, and he trotted behind Lyra with no reservations. Lee hoped the drugs were working their way out of his system.

They had just reached the bottom of the slope when Serafina Pekkala materialised in front of them, as if the shadows had coalesced into the form of a woman. Asriel started but didn’t retreat or growl at her.

‘You’ve lost your pursuers,’ Serafina informed the wolves. ‘But I advise you to return to human form as soon as possible. The city is in uproar, and Alderman Danvers is currently rallying forces to search all of Oxford for you.’

Lee, unable to speak to Serafina in his current guise, nodded assent.

_Come on, Lyra, back to St John’s Lock_ , he said.

_But what about Father?_ She asked, looking at Asriel worriedly. _His body’s still back in the den. What if he doesn’t remember?_

‘No,’ said Stelmaria, standing beside Asriel, staring intently at Lyra. ‘We remember. The forest. Den. We go there now.’

Without another word, she and Asriel whirled round in perfect unison and took off across the Meadow, loping in the direction of Badbury Forest.

_Father!_ Lyra cried, distressed, and made to run after him.

‘No, Lyra,’ said Serafina calmly. ‘I will fly after your father and make sure he is safe. You and Mr Scoresby return to the Gyptians. Wait there for me. I will come and find you, and if possible, bring Asriel with me.’

She leapt into the air and was gone. Lyra, clearly unhappy with this turn of events, whimpered, looking for her father. But he had already vanished into the night, hopefully going to find the den and resume being human.

_Come on, kid,_ said Lee gently. _There’s nothing more we can do now. Your pa will be fine, with Serafina to watch over him. Let’s get back to being human and then, if we don’t get word after a few hours, we’ll go looking for him._

Lyra, reluctantly, acknowledged the sense in Lee’s words. With a sigh, she turned in the opposite direction, ready to head back to St John’s Lock, where with any luck, their allies and their human forms were waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> Well, Asriel's free at last and Lee's kept his promise to Lyra... but will that be an end to his new role as Lyra's protector and teacher? You'll have to wait and see!
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	20. The Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asriel's finally free and back together with Lyra - but the joyous reunion Lee was hoping for doesn't materialise. And with Lee less than impressed with Asriel, is there still a place for him within the pack?

It was a weary trudge back to St John’s Lock. Lee’s shoulder was hurting badly, and he developed a limp that grew worse the further they travelled. Lyra was subdued after her father’s departure, and worried for Iorek and the Gyptians. Both wolfwalkers were exhausted, so when the river leading to the Lock and the first narrowboats appeared, dark smudges in the night-time, their relief was so profound it was almost painful.

They made their quiet way along the riverbank, searching for the Costa narrowboat where they guessed the Gyptians would have retreated. Most of the boats were unlit, silent, but occasionally a Gyptian, performing some chore or other would appear on deck or on the bank. Then Lee and Lyra would freeze, waiting for them to turn away or go back inside, and continue on unseen.

Finally, the Costa’s boat came into view. Something large, covered with tarpaulin, was sitting on the foredeck. It stirred as the wolves approached, the covering falling back to reveal Iorek Byrnison, waiting for them.

‘Lee, Lyra,’ he greeted them as the wolves came limping over. ‘I am glad to see you both. Is Asriel alive?’

Lyra nodded confirmation.

‘Good. Go inside. We will talk in the morning.’

Iorek watched solemnly as the two wolves limped to the gangplank. Tony Costa was waiting for them, grinning all over his face.

‘Good job you’re back,’ he remarked. ‘Mum’s having kittens about Lyra, if that’s the right term. And you started bleeding a while ago, Mr Scoresby, at the shoulder. Had everyone in a proper lather. Go on, down you go. You’re in the bunks towards the stern.’

The wolves climbed onboard, through the hatch and down the stairs into the narrowboat, towards the stern as directed. Naptha lamps were flaring, a stark contrast to outside. Woozy with pain and fatigue, Lee was only vaguely aware of people present, watching them, uttering words of joy or excitement or surprise. Almost in a trace, he walked to where two people were laid, sleeping, atop a narrow bunk apiece. He was on the right, Lyra on the left. With the last of his strength, Lee jumped on top of himself and at once felt himself descending into darkness, into quiet, into the peace of dreamless sleep.

It seemed but a moment later that Lee came back to himself. The very first thing he recognised was the familiar reassuring weight of Hester, crouched above his heart. The second thing was the pain in his left shoulder.

Lee reached up with a human hand to probe the injury but felt beneath his shirt and found someone had bandaged it while he was out being a wolf. He formed his hand into a fist, which hurt like crazy. However, his grip was as strong as ever. Painful, but not debilitating. Hester was right, he’d had worse.

Fully awake now, Lee opened his eyes to find night was giving way to the uncertain light of just before dawn. He turned his head to check on Lyra, and saw she was curled up in her bunk, very like a wolf cub, Pantalaimon a puppy cuddled within her embrace. Lee smiled at the look of innocent repose on her features.

‘She looks like a little angel asleep like that,’ he murmured to Hester. ‘Good job we know better.’

‘Ya think?’ drawled Hester. ‘She’s fine by the way, no hurts. She’s just tired.’

‘Good. I don’t want to have to face her pa and tell him otherwise.’

Lee stroked Hester’s ears, his mood a strange mix of pride and melancholy. He had done right by Lyra, kept his promise to free her father, but Asriel’s return would alter things between them. Lyra would have her real parent to look after her and guide her now. It would no longer be her and Lee, partners, them against the world. Lee supposed he ought to be thankful that the responsibility had been shifted from him, but there was more than a trace of sadness in the realisation.

_All right, enough moping,_ he told himself, and shifted with some difficulty into a sitting position, Hester jumping down to sit in his lap. Lee was relieved to see his beloved Winchester propped against his bunk and ran an appreciative hand over it. His movement didn’t go unnoticed. A moment later two Gyptians appeared by his bunk – wait, a Gyptian and a scholar.

‘Mr Scoresby, it’s good to see you,’ beamed Dr Van Buskirk. He’d shed his scholar’s robes and was wearing a heavy cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, patched canvas trousers with suspenders and sturdy boots, looking for all the world like a Gyptian man. Lithiel was perched on his shoulder. Alongside them was Derrick, eyes as big as a frog’s in his face as he stared at Lee.

‘Good to see you too, doc,’ Lee answered. ‘Morning, Derrick.’

Derrick blushed and didn’t answer.

‘Everyone make it back okay?’ Lee asked, though he was confident they had done so. Van Buskirk wouldn’t look so cheery if something had gone awry.

‘Everyone’s fine,’ Van Buskirk confirmed, just as Lee had hoped. ‘Tired, but fine. We all waited up for you. Except Wilfred, the young man you rescued from the laboratory. He’s exhausted, and we suspect he’s been drugged whilst imprisoned. He’s on another boat, sleeping it off. Some healers are watching him.’

‘You weren’t chased?’

‘No, because there were some wolves causing a riot in the centre of town,’ remarked Van Buskirk wryly. ‘And the Gyptians are experts at hiding. We travelled along all manner of hidden waterways to get back here. A bit hair-raising in places, but Derrick’s quite the steersman.’

‘Good job,’ Lee said to the Gyptian. Derrick turned an interesting plum shade and bolted back towards the bow.

‘Odd bloke,’ said Van Busirk with cheerful puzzlement. ‘But brave. By the way, Scoresby, can you tell me what happened to Asriel? Iorek Byrnison has told us he’s alive but no more than that.’

‘We escaped and parted ways,’ Lee said carefully, unsure of how much Van Buskirk knew. Though after the scholar’s witnessing his and Lyra’s transformations last night, Lee was pretty certain Van Buskirk had pieced everything together about the wolfwalkers. ‘Asriel had some things he needed to do. He should show up here before too long.’

‘Good,’ replied Van Buskirk. His daemon leaned forward a little, examined Lee and Hester with microscopic intensity. A moment later, Van Buskirk leaned forward also, and spoke very quietly.

‘Mr Scoresby, about what I saw last night –’

‘I can’t make you unsee it,’ Lee answered, glad to be speaking plainly. ‘But, doc, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your mouth shut. Not for my sake so much as Lyra’s. You’ve seen what kind of people are after us. The danger we face.’

‘Have no fear on that account, Mr Scoresby,’ Van Buskirk answered at once. ‘Lord Faa has my word of honour that I shall never reveal your secret, unless you permit me to, and I don’t want to risk _his_ wrath. Also, your armoured bear friend threatened to rip my head off and use my guts as fish bait if I betray you.’

‘Really? Hmm,’ said Lee, strangely pleased. Iorek was seldom so forthright about his friendship with Lee. He demonstrated his attachment through actions rather than words, nearly always.

‘But… I will say that seeing you and Lyra last night…well, for years, I’ve worked in the abstract. With books, with stories and legends and fairy tales. And now, to see them brought to life… it means more than I can possibly say,’ Van Buskirk continued, his smile gentle and sincere.

Lee smiled back, though with a wry quirk to his mouth.

‘Well, I’m glad for that, doc,’ he said, quite earnest in his words. ‘You’ve been a great friend to me and Lyra these past few days. Can’t say as I agree with you about the stories and fairy tales, though.’

‘Oh? How so?’

‘Ain’t no way they’re abstract. The best stories always have something to teach you, have something important to say.’

Van Buskirk looked thoughtful, but any riposte or agreement he was about to make was interrupted when Lyra stirred on the opposite bunk, hands coming up to rub at sleepy eyes.

‘Morning, honey,’ said Lee. Lyra woke up all at once then, sitting bolt upright and tipping poor Pantalaimon onto the floor.

‘Hey!’ Pan yelped.

‘Mr Scoresby!’ Lyra cried, leaping from the bunk and shoving past Van Buskirk to throw herself on Lee and squeeze him breathless. Unfortunately, her enthusiastic hug jostled his bad shoulder and Lee nearly yowled in agony. He managed to hold it back, but his shocked gasp alerted Lyra to the problem.

‘Oh, I forgot!’ she exclaimed, grimacing an apology. ‘Here, just a moment and I’ll fix it.’

She pulled back and placed her hands on his shoulder, eyes drifting shut. Van Buskirk’s eyes by contrast were ready to go rolling out of his head when the first coils and twists of golden light emerged from beneath Lyra’s palms. Even his barn owl-daemon looked impressed as Lyra healed Lee’s injury through wolfwalker magic, the golden glow and heat building to a climax and then vanishing, its work complete.

Lyra dropped her hands and Lee jabbed at his shoulder. No pain, no restricted movement, all was healed.

‘Thanks, kid,’ Lee said, as Lyra opened her eyes. She glanced up at Van Buskirk, only just seeming to realise his presence.

‘You can’t tell no-one about that, doctor,’ she informed him.

‘Ah, don’t worry, Iorek’s gonna tear his head off if he does,’ remarked Lee, swinging his legs off the bunk and searching for his boots. Lyra perked up.

‘Ooh, can I watch?’ she asked.

‘No, you may not,’ snapped Van Buskirk. ‘Because it’s not going to happen, I’ve given my word I’ll keep quiet and I’m sticking to it.’

‘Oh,’ said Lyra, deflating. ‘Well, if he rips the head off someone else, can I watch?’

‘Depends on how much you annoy him in the interim,’ Lee snarked, as Hester snickered. ‘Anyhow, forget that. Let’s get cleaned up and grab some breakfast before your pa arrives. I want you looking presentable, as least.’

Lyra pulled a face. Van Buskirk laughed and shuffled towards the prow.

‘I’ll tell everyone you’re up and about,’ he said. ‘Lord Faa will want a word, and I suspect Ma Costa will want to check on Lyra.’

The scholar departed, and Lyra looked at Lee for a moment, mischief brewing in her eyes.

‘We did it!’ she cheered, flinging herself on him again with no mishaps this time.

‘We sure did,’ Lee agreed, hugging her back. ‘Damn, this is gonna take some explaining when your father gets here.’

He felt Lyra stiffen in his arms and realised he’d said the wrong thing. He pulled back a little to see Lyra looking uncharacteristically sober.

‘I hope he’s not too angry,’ she murmured. ‘He’s always saying, tell no-one. And now there’s you and Iorek Byrnison, and Serafina Pekkala, _and_ the Gyptians _and_ Dr Van Buskirk! And I _bit_ you! Another thing he said I was never to do!’

‘Water under the proverbial bridge, honey,’ Lee told her. ‘No point fretting over it now. Besides, no way will your pa be angry. He might be a bit shocked, but everyone who knows your secret is either your friend or they’ve given their word of honour never to tell.’

He studied Lyra’s face and realised reassurance was still needed.

‘Look, Lyra, I don’t know your father, but one thing I do know, is that he’s gonna be so proud of you,’ he continued, a little awkwardly, for he’d never been an effusive man, and he knew nothing of what sort of man Asriel truly was. ‘You got landed with a lousy set of circumstances, and not only did you survive them, find yourself some allies and keep the pack safe, but you busted him out of prison _and_ led him out of town when he was doped up with goodness-knows-what. Whichever way you look at it, you did good, kid.’

‘You think?’ she asked, still a trifle uncertain. Briefly, Lee wondered what kind of a number Asriel had done on Lyra but dismissed the thought as unworthy. Lyra was probably all her father had in the world, and it would be unsurprising if Asriel had been a bit overprotective or overly concerned with secrecy.

‘I know,’ Lee answered her, voice firm. ‘I know I’m damn proud of you.’

Lyra beamed. Lee smiled back, while Hester leapt down from the bunk so Pantalaimon could cuddle up to her. Despite their outrageous circumstances and uncertain future, for a moment all was well with the world.

The moment was ended by Derrick, bustling through from the narrowboat kitchen with a steaming mug of what smelled like chocolatl in hand.

‘Here,’ he said, proffering it to Lee. ‘I thought you might like some –’

‘Ooh, thanks,’ said Lyra, nabbing it and gulping it down with abandon. Derrick looked so dismayed that Lee couldn’t help laughing a bit.

‘Coffee would be good, if you have it,’ he said to Derrick, who immediately perked up and headed back to the kitchen. Lee chuckled and set about getting his boots on and sprucing himself up for his first meeting with the famous Lord Asriel.

###

Everyone who was aware of the wolfwalkers congregated for breakfast and a council of war on Lord Faa’s narrowboat (Iorek sitting on the prow again). Ma Costa tried to make a fuss over Lyra, but the girl was distracted, constantly looking out of the window of sign of her father or Serafina Pekkala. However, she definitely did the scrambled eggs and sausages justice.

Lee and Lord Faa did most of the talking, with Van Buskirk or one of the other Gyptians chipping in as required. The Gyptians had easily escaped pursuit last night, if indeed there had been any. Lee and Lyra’s rescue of Lord Asriel had distracted police and Magisterium security sufficiently that the break-in at Jordan and the ‘kidnapping’ of Dr Van Buskirk was eclipsed. It hadn’t even merited a mention in the early morning papers.

The wolves in the centre of the city, by contrast, were the talk of Oxford and the surrounding county to boot. Stories were spreading like ripples on a pond, each more outrageous than the last. That the wolves had invaded Oxford in revenge for the hunts taking place in Badbury Forest, that they had been an omen warning of some great evil about to befall the city, that they would return with an army of wolves and the streets would run red with blood.

More prosaically, Alderman Danvers was now in a precarious position as far as the citizens of Oxford were concerned. Nine people had been wounded by shots fired by Magisterium forces last night, four seriously. There had been further damage done to homes and businesses as the guards had searched Oxford for the wolves, and a number of people hurt in the crush in Jericho. Danvers was the focus of the citizens’ ire, and there were already calls for him to be removed from office. The Chief Constable of Oxford Police had submitted an urgent request to his superiors in London to allow the removal of all Magisterium security forces from the city.

‘All that’s to our advantage,’ remarked Lee. ‘If Danvers is on the way out, it’s one less problem to deal with.’

‘He’s not going to go quietly,’ warned Farder Coram. ‘He’ll cling to power like a limpet. But if his attention is divided, it gives us a chance to get you and the wild wolves away from here safely.’

‘Any word about Coulter and the Magisterium?’ Van Buskirk asked.

‘None, but that’s to be expected,’ Lord Faa commented. ‘Explaining that her research subjects have all been taken, not to mention the scholar primarily responsible for such research, is going to be a severe embarrassment for her. She’s not going to want that news spread about.’

‘Speaking of which, what are you planning to do now, doctor?’ Lee asked Van Buskirk.

‘Lord Faa has offered me sanctuary among the Gyptians,’ Van Buskirk answered, smiling at Faa and Farder Coram. ‘Officially I’m a cousin of the Costas, visiting from the Eastern families. I’m going to stay with them for a while and try and make contact with my sister. I’ll send word to the Master that I’m all right as soon as it’s safe. I do hope this doesn’t make trouble for him and Jordan.’

‘Far as we’re aware, doc, the Magisterium doesn’t know that you were assisting us,’ Lee pointed out. ‘And they’ve got other problems to deal with in Oxford. Your college should be fine.’

This was perhaps a tad optimistic on Lee’s part, but Van Buskirk looked so relieved by his words that he couldn’t bring himself to qualify his supposition. Everyone finished off their breakfast and Lee was wondering how to distract Lyra from worrying about her father when Iorek poked his head into the cabin and announced Asriel and Serafina Pekkala were approaching.

Lyra sprang to her feet and bolted from the cabin, Pantalaimon as a hare running after her. Lee remained where he was for a moment, feeling that Lyra and her father should be allowed a few moments of privacy for their reunion. But then he reasoned they would be meeting on a riverbank crowded with Gyptians and there would be no harm in watching. So, he got up and followed at a more sedate pace, eager for a glimpse of Asriel as a human.

He ducked under the low lintel and gazed down the riverbank where the tall, upright figure of Serafina was striding along, next to a man whose swift walk ate up the distance like fire. His leopard-daemon walked alongside him, and Lee noted their similar confident movements, their cool focus on their surroundings.

Then he sucked in his breath sharply as he saw Lyra charging along the riverbank. She halted a few metres from Asriel, arms windmilling to keep her balance, and stood there, unsure. Asriel showed no reaction – at least, none that Lee could perceive from the narrowboat. He marched up to Lyra and stood, staring down at her, and said a few words.

Lyra must have responded, for Asriel nodded after a few moments and then continued on his way, Lyra hopping aside and then trailing after him towards Lord Faa’s narrowboat.

Lee frowned. He’d expected Asriel to sweep Lyra up in a hug or pull her close to him, not chat briefly with her as he would a casual acquaintance. This detachment, after the hell they’d both been through, was disconcerting.

Asriel, however, must have had other things on his mind. He came striding over to the narrowboat and up the gangplank without waiting for invitation. He stepped on deck, and paused only then, as he saw Lee waiting for him.

For a long moment they surveyed one another. Lee knew his measure was being taken, and he faced Lord Asriel eye-to-eye and man to man. Stelmaria stepped forward and surveyed Hester, looming over her, but Hester was utterly self-possessed, sitting down and regarding Asriel’s daemon dispassionately. It was Asriel who broke the silence.

‘The witch-queen informs me that your name is Lee Scoresby,’ said Asriel. ‘I’ve heard of you on my travels to the North.’

Lee said nothing, mostly because he couldn’t think of anything to say in response. With another man he might have made some quip about his exploits being exaggerated, but Asriel’s fierce gaze warned him such humour would not be appreciated.

His silence seemed to intrigue Asriel. The other man’s mouth quirked up at one corner, and his eyes warmed up a fraction.

‘It’s good to meet you,’ he said, extending a hand. ‘Save Lyra, it’s been years since I’ve met another wolfwalker. In human form, at any rate.’

Lee shook his hand, noting the firm grip. Asriel let go after a moment and looked behind Lee to where Lord Faa and Dr Van Buskirk were watching. Then Iorek Byrnison stuck his head round the corner of the boat, and Asriel raised an eyebrow.

‘I can see I have a lot to catch up on,’ he murmured.

‘We can talk about it onboard,’ said Lee. ‘I’d rather keep out of sight if possible.’

‘Sensible,’ commented Asriel, stepping past Lee to speak to Lord Faa and Dr Van Buskirk. Lyra came hurrying up the gangplank, Serafina following behind. She glanced up at Lee a little worriedly, and he winked at her, slinging an arm round her shoulders for reassurance.

Asriel turned from his brief conversation with the other men and surveyed Lee and Lyra standing together.

‘We need to talk,’ he said, addressing Lee but somehow including everyone on deck. ‘Lord Faa, I’d appreciate it if we can borrow your narrowboat for a short while.’

‘Of course,’ murmured Lord Faa, his crow daemon watching Asriel through black unblinking eyes.

‘Don’t you want to catch up with Lyra first?’ Lee enquired, just a touch of coolness in his voice. ‘She’s missed you like hell.’

Asriel was mildly surprised by this suggestion, eyes flicking over Lee, as if searching for something he’d expected – a birthmark, perhaps – and finding it missing. Stelmaria didn’t react at all, save for a twitching of her long tail.

‘Maybe later,’ Asriel said after a pause. ‘First, I need to find out what has happened in my absence and where we stand in relation to the Council and the Magisterium.’

Lee _felt_ Lyra’s disappointment, radiating along his arm and into his heart. He squeezed her shoulders, trying to offer what comfort he could. Pantalaimon snuggled against Hester for the same reason. Asriel took no notice, stepping down into Lord Faa’s narrowboat with careless ease, but Stelmaria paused to regard them as she walked past, her expression not entirely friendly.

‘Come on,’ Lee said to Lyra, letting his arm drop. ‘Let’s go tell him what he wants to hear and then you two can spend a bit of time together.’

Lyra nodded and vanished into the narrowboat, Pantalaimon hopping after her. Lee sighed as he watched her go.

‘I get the feeling this ain’t going to go too well,’ remarked Hester.

‘I agree with you,’ said Serafina Pekkala, who was poised upon the gangplank, eyeing Lee carefully. ‘Be ready if Lyra needs you, Mr Scoresby.’

The witch-queen sailed past Lee and the Gyptians and into the boat without pausing to elaborate. Lee glanced at John Faa and Van Buskirk in bemusement. The scholar looked just as puzzled, but there was a humorous, knowing expression on Lord Faa’s features that made Lee feel as if some secret were being withheld from him. Without another word, the aeronaut followed Serafina into the main cabin of the narrowboat.

It was already a tight squeeze in the cabin. Tony and Ma Costa, Bram, Liam, Farder Coram and Derrick were sitting on various bunks or cushions. Serafina stood in a corner, waxing the string on her bow. Lord Asriel was standing at the far end, frowning at the assembly, Lyra waiting nearby. However, as Lee entered and made for a spare seat, she jumped over a couple of peoples’ legs and settled herself on the floor beside him as she had done the previous day.

Lord Faa and Van Buskirk came in and the tall scholar settled awkwardly on a bunk end next to Liam, while Lord Faa came and sat on the seat reserved for him. Lord Asriel surveyed the room again, and turned to Lord Faa, his unspoken questions writ across his face.

‘Everyone in this room is aware of what you are and what you can do, Lord Asriel,’ said Lord Faa. ‘I have extracted a vow of secrecy from each and every one of them, unless you state otherwise.’

‘All of them know of the wolfwalkers?’ muttered Asriel, not best pleased. He directed a swift glare at Lee, who sat impassive. ‘Someone’s been indiscreet. The more people know, the more danger we are in.’

Lord Faa steepled his hands before him.

‘Do you doubt my word of honour, Lord Asriel?’ he asked. His voice was soft as falling snow, yet it sent a tremor through all who heard it. It checked even Asriel’s annoyance, and he turned to face the Gyptian, head bowed respectfully.

‘My apologies, Lord Faa, I meant no disrespect,’ he said, quite sincerely. ‘Secrecy is… ingrained in me. It is essential for my – our – survival.’

‘We get that,’ said Lee, who was unimpressed with what he’d seen of Lord Asriel thus far. Hester nipped his ankle in warning, but he carried on recklessly. ‘But the thing is, Lord Asriel, everyone here played a role in your rescue, so some thanks wouldn’t go amiss right about now.’

Asriel stared at Lee. Clearly, no-one had spoken to him like that in quite some time. At his feet, Lee could feel Lyra tensing up, but he sat and stared back at Asriel, a pleasant little smile playing about his mouth. On his own, Lee might not have prevailed, but following his observation the Gyptians, Van Buskirk and Serafina Pekkala were all regarding Asriel expectantly.

‘Then I offer my thanks to all of you,’ Asriel said, voice rich and warm, but his eyes never wavering from his scrutiny of Lee. ‘Perhaps you had better tell me what exactly happened since my capture.’

Lord Faa took charge, informing Asriel of what he knew – the rescue of the Gyptians by two wolfwalkers, their subsequent recruitment, the rescue from Jordan with the assistance of Iorek Byrnison and Serafina Pekkala, Lee and Lyra’s daring venture into central Oxford to retrieve him. Asriel listened with what seemed to be habitual intensity, occasionally nodding at some detail or frowning slightly if something displeased him. He offered no commentary or further thanks, and Lee had the strong impression that Asriel accepted the risks everyone had run and the danger they’d faced as his due.

Once Lord Faa was concluded, Asriel stood, hands in pockets and mind in deep contemplation, considering all he’d learned.

‘Scoresby,’ he said, apropos of nothing. ‘You’ve taken care of Lyra in my absence and orchestrated my freedom. I owe you a debt.’

‘It was your girl here who recruited me,’ Lee answered serenely, indicating Lyra with a jerk of his head.

‘And that was well done,’ Asriel said, and Lee felt rather than saw Lyra sit up a bit straighter at the praise. ‘I’m curious – how exactly did she find you? We’re a rare breed. Aside from Lyra, you’re the first wolfwalker I’ve encountered in five years.’

‘Well, we sort of found each other,’ Lee answered, honestly enough. ‘I broke curfew the first night I was in Oxford and found Lyra in the woods – though I didn’t know she was Lyra then. A couple of days later, we ran into each other in town. Literally. Lyra took a chance on me and told me about you. How you were missing, what she’d done to try and find you. By coincidence, I was interested in finding a wolfwalker too, to help my friend Iorek out there. We’ve been partners ever since.’

Asriel raised a sceptical eyebrow.

‘Why would you be seeking out a wolfwalker for the _panserbjørne_?’ he enquired.

‘He needs help from one,’ Lee explained, mentally kicking himself for letting slip _that_ little detail. ‘He’s got a situation at Bolvangar, where his tribe live, that a wolfwalker might be able to resolve.’

‘So, why did he not simply ask you?’

‘Well, I only became a wolfwalker four or five days ago,’ Lee said frankly, not seeing the point in mincing matters.

Asriel’s jaw dropped. The stunned expression was swiftly wiped from his face, to be replaced by a churning anger. Lee felt Lyra hunker closer to him.

‘What happened, Lyra?’ Asriel asked, so quietly even Hester and the wolfwalkers struggled to make the words out. Lee reached over to place a reassuring hand on Lyra’s shoulder. It must have given Lyra courage, for a moment later she blurted out her confession.

‘I bit him, Father,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to exactly – I didn’t know what it would do –’

‘You _bit_ him,’ Asriel parroted, the words harsh with fury. ‘But you didn’t mean to. Is that all you have to say for yourself?’

‘It was an accident,’ Lee answered, before Lyra had a chance to speak. ‘If you want someone to blame, then blame me. I broke curfew and went into the forest. Then when I saw Lyra there, I panicked her, and she defended herself. This is on me, not her.’

‘After everything I told you about never biting people?’ Asriel demanded of Lyra, ignoring Lee’s words. ‘You’ve turned a human! Do you _know_ what you’ve unleashed here? What the consequences are going to be?’

‘No, because you never tell me anything!’ Lyra exclaimed, rising to her feet and glaring back at Asriel, Pantalaimon a fierce little terrier at her feet. ‘You’re always telling me not to do things –’

‘And with good reason! Do you have the remotest idea of the forces arrayed against us? What danger we face?’

‘I know more than you think! I had to protect the pack and teach Lee all by myself _and_ get you out of Jordan!’

‘Yes, and now we’re lumbered with another wolfwalker who hasn’t got the faintest idea of what he’s become and with the wrath of the Magisterium upon us!’

‘I did my best! If you’d ever bothered to _explain_ –’

‘I don’t have the time to explain things to a mewling girl!’ Asriel snapped. Lee sprang to his feet in outrage and the Gyptians all looked appalled. A growl of anger from Iorek reverberated from the prow.

Lyra shot her father a look of scorn mingled with furious sadness and bolted, her daemon running after her. Serafina, silent as a shadow, left her post and went to follow the young wolfwalker.

Left behind, Lee and Asriel faced each other down in the cramped confines of the cabin. If this was a shootout, Lee reflected briefly, no way would both of them emerge alive. The black devil of rage was on the loose inside him again, snarling and clawing at everything within reach. Perhaps it showed in Lee’s face, for Asriel remained motionless, a catlike stillness, and said nothing.

‘Your daughter rescued your sorry ass and has been fighting off every enemy you care to mention, better than most men I know could,’ Lee said once he was certain he had himself under control. But although his voice was quiet, he could sense everyone in the room drawing back – aside from Asriel, of course.

‘And whatever wrongs she’s done me, I’ve forgiven them,’ Lee continued. ‘In fact, she’s taught me more in these past few days than I learned in ten years previous. You ought to be giving her a medal, not a dressing down.’

Asriel regarded him with icy contempt, while his daemon looked down her nose at Hester.

‘Oh? And what makes you qualified to judge?’ he drawled. ‘You know nothing, Scoresby, nothing of the wolfwalkers or my daughter – or me.’

‘I’d say he knows a hell of a lot more about Lyra than you do,’ stated Ma Costa, rising to her feet and standing fearlessly beside Lee. ‘Judging by _that_ disgraceful scene. And I’ll have you know, _Lord_ Asriel, that you may be an important man in Oxford and London and what-have-you, but you’re amongst the Gyptians now and if you want our hospitality you’ll be apologising to Mr Scoresby _and_ Lyra in the very near future.’

Asriel chuffed a laugh of disbelief.

‘Lord Faa,’ he said, half-incredulously, gesturing at Ma Costa.

‘This is her family home, and she outranks me here,’ Lord Faa answered carelessly, also standing. ‘You have long been a friend to the Gyptians, Lord Asriel, and we are grateful for all you have done for us. But if you wish to remain among us, I suggest making those apologies. Come on, everyone. Let us all go and compose ourselves before we reconvene.’

Lee was grimly amused to note that even Van Buskirk followed Lord Faa’s lead and headed for the gangplank. Then Ma Costa tapped him on the shoulder, and he bent so she could murmur in his ear.

‘Go and find Lyra,’ she whispered. ‘She’ll be needing you.’

Lee nodded.

‘Come on, Hester,’ he said, smiling as Hester defiantly turned her flank on Stelmaria and loped easily towards the door. They crossed the gangplank in their turn and went to look for the errant wolf-girl, not knowing (and not much caring) if Asriel was watching them.

‘ _He’s_ what we went through hell and high water to save?’ grumbled Hester as they walked. ‘I liked it better when it was just us and Lyra.’

‘You’re not the only one, Hester.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm wondering if perhaps I've been a bit too harsh on Asriel in this chapter. As shown in snippets from His Dark Materials and especially La Belle Sauvage, he does have some fatherly feeling towards Lyra. My characterisation of him here is based on Asriel in the first half of The Amber Spyglass, a man so consumed with his crusade against the Magisterium that he only values human (and wolf) relations insofar as they can be of use to him. This is another reason why I made Lee a bit younger in this story - he and Asriel are going to be foils to one another, because of course, Lee's love for Lyra is his guiding principle. Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	21. Two Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee tries to console Lyra... and has a little talk with Ma Costa.

Iorek espied Lee as he walked off the narrowboat and leapt with ease onto the towpath, striding to catch up with the aeronaut.

‘She headed inland,’ the bear told him without preamble. ‘I will take you in the right direction.’

‘She crying?’

‘No, but I could tell she was unhappy.’

‘Damnit,’ grumbled Lee. ‘How the hell am I meant to straighten this out?’

‘You ain’t,’ said Hester firmly. ‘What happens between Lyra and her father is for them to deal with. You’re just here to help her as much as you can.’

‘That is true,’ grunted Iorek. ‘You made your feelings plain to Asriel. Now, go and make them plain to Lyra.’

‘Cripes,’ sighed Lee. Heart-to-hearts weren’t his area of expertise. But for Lyra’s sake, he’d try his best.

They walked on a little further in the direction Lyra had headed, hunting for any sign of her curled up in some hidey-hole or perched upon a wall or causing havoc upon a Gyptian narrowboat. She was nowhere to be found, and Lee was just contemplating heading back and asking Ma and Tony Costa for help in searching for her when Serafina Pekkala appeared in front of them.

‘She’s by the oak tree, Mr Scoresby,’ she told him. Lee knew exactly where the witch-queen meant and veered off the towpath with a nod of thanks. He heard Iorek following behind him and wondered whether the bear would have anything to say or if he’d just watch Lee squirm and probably make a complete fool of himself.

Then the copse with the oak tree loomed before them. Lee took a deep breath and strode forward.

Lyra was crouched at the base of the oak, Pantalaimon an ermine within her embrace. Lee couldn’t see her face, as she was staring hard at the ground, bedraggled hair concealing her expression. She wasn’t sniffling or whimpering, tough article that she was, but dejection suffused every inch of her, from her limp fingers to her bowed head.

Lee walked over and settled himself beside her. Lyra turned her face from him, but Lee wasn’t offended. He sat still and waited.

‘What do you want?’ Lyra asked sulkily after a minute or so. The question flummoxed Lee for a moment – what did he want? To take Lyra’s pain away? To smack Asriel upside the head? To tell her what her father thought didn’t matter? He wanted to do all three, but he couldn’t do the first, the second wouldn’t serve any purpose aside from relieving Lee’s feelings for a brief moment, and the third would be cruel and pointless. Lee cared nothing for Asriel’s good opinion, but it was blindingly obvious that Lyra did.

Lee wondered deliriously about the best way to answer. As usual, he decided on the truth.

‘To tell you I don’t agree with Asriel, for what it’s worth,’ he said, studying the sky rather than Lyra. ‘I told him so, as well.’

‘He won’t listen to you,’ Lyra muttered.

‘But it needed to be said,’ Lee answered without missing a beat.

For a few minutes, they sat alone together. The breeze stirred the leaves of the oak tree and ruffled Lyra’s hair. Lee removed his hat so as to let the cool wind play across his face, the way it did when he was soaring high above the earth.

‘He’s so _demanding_ ,’ Lyra said all of a sudden. Lee looked towards her sharply and saw she’d raised her head and that her eyes were glinting with familiar temper. ‘He expects me to be perfect! To be _everything_! I mustn’t bother him, and I can’t leave his sight, he wants me to do everything he tells me even if it’s stupid, I can’t ask questions and he expects me to know it all, and even when I manage to do what he wants all he says is “can’t you do that all the time?” and when I make a mistake, he acts like I’m invisible! I finally thought I’d done something _right_ , and now – argh! He got himself caught! He’s stupider than I ever was! Why am I getting upset? It’s all _stupid_!’

Lyra sprang to her feet, dislodging Pantalaimon, and aimed a kick at the unsuspecting oak. Lee hid a grin of relief and also got to his feet.

‘I think your father was too hard on you, kid,’ he said. ‘You know what I think of everything that’s happened. But, Lyra, at the end of the day he’s your father and it’s not surprising you care about his opinion.’

‘I wish I didn’t,’ Lyra muttered.

‘But you do,’ Lee returned mildly. ‘The thing is, honey, some peoples’ opinions matter more than others. But the one that really matters in a situation like this is yours. Do you think you screwed up?’

The question, delivered so directly, gave Lyra pause. She stopped kicking the oak tree and looked up at Lee.

‘I bit you when I wasn’t meant to,’ she began, a trifle uncertainly. Lee shook his head.

‘That was an accident, honey, nothing more. What about everything else you’ve done _since_ then?’

Lyra pondered the question seriously for a few moments.

‘I made some mistakes,’ she said thoughtfully, her anger receding a little. ‘Like going running off by myself in the woods when the hunters were around. But I didn’t mess _everything_ up. I helped rescue Tony and Derrick, and I taught you and I helped heal Iorek and then led Father to safety. No, I didn’t screw up.’

‘Then we’re in agreement,’ Lee smiled. Lyra smiled back. Her expression was watery, but then she reached for Lee and wrapped her arms tight round him in a hug. He hugged her back, planting a kiss on the crown of her head.

The moment was shattered by a _harumph_ of disapproval from Iorek. Lee and Lyra pulled apart to find Asriel standing at the edge of the spinney, staring at them stonily. Iorek had inserted himself between Asriel and the other wolfwalkers and was watching the former, the expression on his bearish face not at all welcoming.

‘Lyra, we need to talk,’ Asriel said, voice toneless. ‘Mr Scoresby, Iorek Byrnison, would you mind?’

Lee glanced down at Lyra.

‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Lee nodded and strode off back towards the river, deliberately not looking at Asriel as he passed him. Behind him, he heard Iorek’s low, rumbling voice raised ever-so-slightly in warning.

‘If you take your temper out on her again, Asriel, you will answer to me,’ the armoured bear growled, and stalked off behind Lee. Neither of them spoke again until they were back on the towpath. Serafina Pekkala wasn’t there and Lee guessed she’d gone flying or for another talk with Farder Coram.

‘What now?’ Iorek asked Lee.

‘Let’s if we can scrounge a cup of coffee from somewhere,’ answered Lee. ‘And after, I want a word with Ma Costa.’

‘Why her?’

‘Because I get the feeling she knows more about Lyra and Asriel than she’s letting on, and I’m mighty curious about it,’ said Lee, and led the way back to the Costa narrowboat.

###

Ma Costa was waiting for Lee as he came striding up the riverbank and invited him back onboard with a wave of her hand. Tony Costa and Derrick were there also and helped Iorek conceal himself under his trusty tarpaulin before Tony dragged a doe-eyed Derrick off to see if Lord Faa wanted anything.

Ma Costa took Lee down into the narrowboat kitchen and served him with an excellent cup of coffee before she began questioning him about Lyra.

‘I think she’s a bit better than she was,’ Lee answered frankly. ‘I told her that what really matters here is her opinion of how she did with Asriel missing. She knows she’s made a few mistakes, but overall, she thinks she’s done good, and I agree with her. I told her so.’

Ma Costa beamed approval of these words.

‘That’s more like it,’ she smiled. ‘I’m glad she’s found you, Mr Scoresby. Lord Asriel’s a great man in many ways, but he’s about as loving – and loveable – as barbed wire. Lyra needs love, all children do.’

Lee took a sip of his coffee to avoid having to answer. He loved Lyra, of course he did, but now she had her father back, and Lee had no choice but to step aside, even if Asriel was a bastard. Besides, despite Lyra’s claiming of him as pack, Lee had the uncomfortable feeling that there was no wolfpack in the world with room enough for both him and Asriel.

‘She’s a right one,’ Ma Costa continued, thankfully not expecting an answer from him. ‘She’s a cheeky little sod when she’s a mind to be, but she’s got a heart as big as this boat. I’ve known her since she was a baby.’

‘Mmm,’ answered Lee. ‘Ma Costa, something I’ve been wondering. When we were speaking with you yesterday, Lyra let slip Asriel was her father, and none of you were the slightest bit surprised. The thing is, for eleven years, everyone believed he was her uncle – Lyra included. How is it you know things about her that even she doesn’t?’

Ma Costa’s smile faded, and her eyes lost their knowing sharpness, turning soft and unfocused as they sought some bittersweet memory, hidden amongst hundreds of thousands of her recollections. Lee sipped his coffee and waited.

‘How much do you know about Lyra’s past?’ Ma Costa asked Lee eventually.

‘About as much as she does,’ Lee shrugged. ‘Asriel had an affair with a married woman, and Lyra was born. When the woman found out about his being a wolfwalker, she tried to exploit him and Lyra. He hid her away at Jordan College, making out he was her uncle, till she turned out to be a wolfwalker herself.’

‘That’s roughly true,’ Ma Costa acknowledged. ‘But the real story’s a lot messier. Mr Scoresby, I’m going to tell you everything I know, ‘cause I reckon you deserve it for looking after Lyra so well. Asriel did have an affair with a married woman, many years ago. She was married to a politician, a rising man. Future Prime Minister, a lot of people thought. When Lyra was born though, it was obvious she was Asriel’s child. So, the woman gave out that the baby died at birth, and she handed Lyra over to a Gyptian woman to nurse.’

‘Was that…’ Lee began, and Ma Costa nodded.

‘Yeah, that was me. I’d just had my youngest, Billy, and she paid me handsomely to look after Lyra too. She was a sweet baby – fretty, but sweet. Anyhow, I took care of her for a couple of months, and that was when the trouble started. The woman, she came back for Lyra. Asriel too, to the house where we was staying. They were having the worst argument you ever heard – shouting, screaming, whacking at each other. I didn’t understand most of it, not then, but it was something about her wanting what he’d got, him not giving it…’

‘She wanted to be a wolfwalker too,’ Lee guessed, recalling what Lyra had told him about her mother wanting to train her, to experiment on her.

‘Yeah, I suppose that was it,’ Ma Costa resumed thoughtfully. ‘At the time I thought it was something daft, her wanting his heart or some romantic nonsense like that. But they were yelling fit to wake the dead. I took Lyra and tried to hide, and it was a mercy I did. The woman’s husband, the politician – he came bursting in. He knew about the affair, someone had told him or he’d found some clue.’

‘Ouch,’ Lee winced.

‘Yeah, that about sums it up,’ sighed Ma Costa. ‘The men fought. The politician had a gun, but Asriel knocked it out of his hand. They traded a few blows, then the politician went screeching through the house, looking for his wife’s bastard brat – that’s what he called Lyra – shrieking he was going to kill her. He found where I was hiding, in a cupboard, and he was just about to force the door open when someone shot him.’

‘Holy hell,’ breathed Lee. ‘Were you both all right?’

‘Fine and dandy, though Lyra and her daemon were screaming their heads off,’ Ma Costa recalled. ‘The politician weren’t as lucky. He died almost at once. Asriel told me to come out, cool as paint, and I did, the dead man lying at my feet. Good job I never minded the sight of blood, it were all over the place. Even on the blasted ceiling.’

‘Do you know who shot him?’ Lee enquired.

‘Not a clue, Mr Scoresby,’ Ma Costa admitted. ‘I thought it was Asriel for a long time, but lately I’ve been thinking it might’ve been Lyra’s mother. She weren’t much of a ma, but having a child changes a woman.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Lee said. ‘And then?’

‘Then Asriel sent the woman packing, told her never to come near him or Lyra again,’ Ma Costa told him. ‘And off she went. He told me to swab the floor, get rid of the blood, and then he goes sauntering off with the dead man over his shoulder as if the body were a sack of spuds. He came back after an hour or so, no corpse with him, and told me he’d be leaving that very night and taking Lyra with him.’

Lee whistled in astonishment.

‘So far as I know, no-one ever found out what became of that politician,’ Ma Costa continued. ‘There was a big hue and cry of course – an important man vanishing into thin air, but they never found a trace of him. Asriel had covered his tracks far too well, and I never said a word – not to anyone in power, at any rate. Lyra’s mother was a social pariah for years. No-one could prove anything against her, but there was all kinds of rumours swirling about. Someone alleged the politician’s wife had a lover who murdered him, which wasn’t too far from the truth, but they never uncovered no details.’

‘Next thing we know Asriel and the baby was reported missing in a shipwreck, and the baby was supposed to have drowned. I was fair cut up, but then good old Bernie at Jordan College told us Asriel had left a baby there, saying it was his niece, and we guessed it was Lyra.’

‘And Bernie Johansen kept an eye on her for you?’ Lee suggested and was gratified to see Ma Costa nodding.

‘He has done, for years,’ Ma Costa told him. ‘Until last year, when Asriel fetched her away. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of her until you two showed up yesterday. We always knew Asriel was hiding a secret of some sort, but this wolfwalker business… I was shocked to my soul.’

‘It’s a surprising business,’ Lee agreed drily. Hester harrumphed at him.

‘I’m glad she’s got you looking out for her now, though,’ Ma Costa finished. Lee shifted uncomfortably, as thoughts of his clash with Asriel and his uncertain status with the other wolfwalker reared up in his mind. But then another thought displaced them.

‘Ma Costa, you’ve told me all you know except one thing,’ he mused out loud. ‘Who Lyra’s mother is. Who is she?’

Ma Costa studied him for a long moment, her eyes fierce and appraising. Her hawk daemon stared balefully from where he was perched atop a shelf, but then hopped onto Ma Costa’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear.

‘The politician who was killed, his name was Edward Coulter,’ Ma Costa answered in a rush. ‘And his wife, Lyra’s mother… her name is Marisa Coulter. She’s the woman leading the wolf hunt for the Council.’

‘Ah, hell,’ muttered Lee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to stick as closely as possible to the original story here, but if there had been a huge court case involving the murder of an eminent politician, it would have been nigh on impossible for Lyra and Asriel to remain hidden and fly below the Magisterium's radar. So in my story, someone quite literally gets away with murder (I know who it was, but I'm not telling...)
> 
> Also, look out Lee, I think Ma Costa's got a job in mind for you, one that Asriel ain't too good at... but whether it comes to pass is another matter. Lyra still hero-worships Asriel and Lee's not certain he's up to the task, but I suspect coming events might alter their perspectives.
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	22. The Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee, Lyra and their allies question the boy rescued from the lab at Jordan, and learn something horrifying.

‘Hellfire and damnation,’ swore Lee, once the first shock of Ma Costa’s revelation had worn off. ‘That crazy woman? She’s wicked, Ma Costa – or at least, what she’s doing is wicked. She had that poor boy, Wilf, locked up in a cage to be experimented on!’

‘I got a shock when I heard she was leading the wolf hunt,’ Ma Costa admitted. ‘It didn’t seem like the sort of thing a former politician’s wife would get involved in. I’m not sure what she hopes to gain by wiping out the wolves – unless it’s revenge on Asriel. She must know who she’d captured, that daemon’s unmistakeable.’

Lee regarded Ma Costa, wondering whether to share what Lyra had told him about her mother. Lyra hadn’t sworn him to secrecy, but on the other hand she hadn’t given him permission to tell anyone either. But having spent a bit of time with Ma Costa and seeing her stand up to Asriel, Lee felt he’d trust her with his life – and more importantly, he’d trust her with Lyra’s. He glanced down at Hester.

‘Go ahead, Lee,’ she said, divining the track his thoughts had been running on as she always did.

‘Ma Costa, when Lyra told me about her history, she mentioned her mother had some real bad intentions for her,’ he said frankly. ‘She didn’t go into specifics, but she mentioned experiments, training regimes… and last night, when we were rescuing Wilf and Asriel, Coulter was harping on about creating _new_ wolfwalkers, not killing them off. I’m willing to bet she’s here because she wants what Asriel and Lyra have got, and she’ll do anything to get it.

‘And what _you’ve_ got,’ Ma Costa murmured, before fixing him with a look that would have felled a fiercer man than Lee. ‘But just now, when Asriel was tearing Lyra off a strip, she said she’d – well, _bitten_ you and that was what…’

‘That was it,’ confirmed Lee. ‘As simple as that.’

Ma Costa looked bemused. Lee quirked a small smile at her.

‘Ma’am, Serafina Pekkala has a theory about that,’ he explained. ‘She thinks becoming a wolfwalker depends on _who_ gets bit. Lyra’s bitten a couple of people in the past and they didn’t turn. If Mrs Coulter’s looking for a way of turning people into wolfwalkers, she’s probably gonna be disappointed unless she chooses someone who has the potential.’

‘So, you’re a special one, are you?’ enquired Ma Costa wryly, her grin taking the sting from the words.

‘Just a wild one, ma’am,’ Lee grinned back.

Their moment of accord was interrupted by Tony Costa, who stuck his head into the kitchen.

‘Mum, Lyra’s – oh, hello, Mr Scoresby, I was going to find you. Lyra and Lord Asriel are back, and Lord Faa wants everyone to reconvene, on his boat this time. Asriel’s got something important he wants to discuss.’

Lee and Ma Costa exchanged glances.

###

Climbing back aboard Lord Faa’s spacious boat, Lee was relieved to note Lyra looking much happier than the last time he’d seen her. He wondered what Asriel had said to her, but there was no time to discuss it. Asriel, who looked as severe as ever, was waiting with a touch of impatience for Lee and Lyra’s motley gang of allies to settle themselves.

Lee sat on a chair and found himself flanked by Ma Costa and Serafina Pekkala. Derrick Volantyne dragged a cushion off a bunk and sat on the floor nearby. Seeing this, Lyra grabbed a cushion and did the same, huddling close to Lee and smiling up at him smiling down.

‘All good?’ Lee whispered.

‘Yeah, all good,’ she whispered back. ‘I’ll tell you about it later.’

Lee sat back and watched Asriel. He stood at ease in the centre of the narrow living quarters while people arranged themselves, and once quiet had descended, spoke without preamble.

‘You have all taken tremendous risks to assist me, and I am grateful to every one of you,’ he began, rather more respectfully than an hour or so ago. ‘But the danger is not over – far from it. The Council is waging war on the wolves in Badbury Forest and wants to exterminate them, that much is true. But the Magisterium has other intentions.’

‘It wants to create new wolfwalkers – or rather, this Mrs Coulter does,’ Lee said bluntly. Asriel flicked a quick glance at him.

‘Yes,’ he answered flatly. ‘Wolfwalkers who will be loyal to her, who will exist under her control and who will carry out her bidding.’

‘She _was_ especially interested in the nature of the relationship between you and your daemon,’ murmured Van Buskirk. ‘I suspect she intends to hold daemons hostage, or similar, to compel any wolfwalkers to obey her.’

‘Yikes,’ muttered Hester, jumping into Lee’s lap in one smooth motion. Lee held her close to reassure her. At his feet, he could see Lyra doing the same with Pantalaimon. He was interested to note that Stelmaria remained aloof from Asriel however, proclaiming _they_ had nothing to fear.

‘Dr Van Buskirk,’ Asriel continued, ‘do you know if Mrs Coulter had actually made any progress in finding out how to create new wolfwalkers?’

‘None,’ sighed the scholar. ‘I reported all my observations to her – and only her – as instructed. She never gave me any hints as to what she intended to do with the information. Mind you, Lithiel eavesdropped on a couple of her conversations with that MacPhail, and she kept talking about finding out the wolfwalkers’ weaknesses, how to kill them – nothing about how to turn people until last night. Whatever she’s playing at, she’s hiding it from the Magisterium.’

‘MacPhail – the Consistorial Court of Discipline. Damn,’ muttered Asriel.

‘Another thing, Asriel,’ interrupted Lee. ‘We reckon she’s got a private research facility somewhere. It was why she had Tony and Derrick kidnapped, to blackmail the Gyptians into transporting you there. Can’t tell you where, I’m afraid.’

‘Knowing Coulter, it could be anywhere,’ Stelmaria said to Asriel.

‘She’s a powerful woman, who exerts a lot of influence within certain sections of the Magisterium,’ commented Asriel. Lee watched him closely, but there was not a twitch of an eyelid, not the slightest curl of his lip to betray what Asriel thought of Mrs Coulter, or to suggest what they had once been to each other.

‘I will have to find out where Coulter is keeping the research relating to the experiments, she conducted on me, and make sure it is destroyed,’ Asriel said. ‘For my safety and for Lyra’s.’

‘And Mr Scoresby’s,’ Lyra piped up. ‘He’s pack, now.’

‘And Mr Scoresby’s,’ Asriel agreed, readily enough. ‘But not only for our safety. Coulter is a ruthless woman. You say she kidnapped a boy off the streets, and was getting ready to do some tests on him?’

In a corner, Bram Garrod stirred.

‘The boy is called Wilfred, and he’s awake and talking,’ he said, the words clipped and precise. ‘I checked on him just now. I can bring him over – but he might not want to face so many people. Poor lad was jumpy as a trapped rabbit when he woke up.’

Asriel crossed his arms. Lee guessed he was raring to question Wilf but didn’t want to alienate Lord Faa by demanding Wilf’s presence.

‘Go and fetch him, Bram,’ said Lord Faa, nodding. ‘See if he’s willing to speak to us. If he’s too frightened, we’ll leave him be and try again later.’

Bram nipped outside and returned in a couple of minutes with Wilf. The young man was pale and looked frightened, holding his daemon close, but brightened a little when he saw Lee and Serafina Pekkala.

‘You’re the rescue party,’ he murmured.

‘All the people in this room are,’ returned Lee. Wilf managed a very small smile in response.

‘Wilfred,’ said Lord Faa, standing and guiding Wilf to sit down in his place. ‘I am John Faa of the Western Gyptians. I know you are afraid, and that you have suffered at the hands of those people who kidnapped you. I want to reassure you that you are safe amongst us. We will not let anyone find you here.’

Wilf’s hunched shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly.

‘Now, Wilf,’ Lord Faa resumed, shifting ever so slightly so he stood between Wilf and Asriel. He’d obviously noticed Asriel’s eyes trained on Wilf like a gunsight. ‘We’re enemies of the people who hurt you, and we want to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else. But the more information we have, the better.’

Wilf and his daemon bobbed their heads in unison.

‘I’ll tell you everything I know,’ he murmured. ‘It started two days ago. I was coming away from a job interview. You were right, you know,’ he said to Lee. ‘I did well. They wanted me to start next Monday.’

‘Was it a good job?’ Lee asked, rather irrelevantly. But it made Wilf smile that tiny smile again.

‘Bit boring-sounding to be honest. It was for an insurance company, doing paperwork. I didn’t much fancy it, but my dad insisted. Anyway, I was on my way home, on my bicycle, and I’d almost reached the outskirts of town when there was a diversion on the road.’

‘What kind of diversion?’ Asriel demanded. Wilf gulped and shrank back into himself. Lee, annoyed, decided to intervene.

‘Lemme guess – the road was blocked off and there was a big sign directing you down some dark alleyway instead,’ Lee suggested. Wilf perked up again.

‘Yes – that was it,’ he confirmed. ‘I’d taken Abingdon Road out of town, and then, just before the airstrip, there was a diversion. I don’t remember the name of the alley I went down – it was to the left, I remember that. I cycled down it – and the next thing I remember, I was waking up. My head hurt, and I was in…in…’

‘You were locked up in the lab,’ Lord Faa finished for him. Wilf nodded jerkily.

‘Yeah. I didn’t know what they wanted – no-one would talk to me. And there was the wolf, with a daemon…I begged to be let go, promised I’d never say a word about what had happened, but…’ Wilf swallowed and looked at the floor.

‘Did you overhear anything about any experiments? About their intentions for you?’ Dr Van Buskirk asked gently.

‘I did,’ Wilf muttered, everyone save the wolfwalkers straining to hear him. ‘The woman there, the one with the monkey daemon…she kept talking about making people into beasts. Turning them into wolves. Said it was only a matter of time.’

‘Did she say anything about another lab, a research institute, an office even?’ Asriel queried, his tone milder than before. But Wilf shook his head again.

‘No, nothing like that,’ he murmured. ‘She did say one thing though. About an experiment… a successful one.’

A thrill of horror ran through Lee, from his hair-roots to his toe-tips. Lyra reached for him, and he grasped her small hand with his larger one, each of them seeking comfort from the other.

Asriel stood, face expressionless, regarding Wilf. Only the tense set of his shoulders betrayed his inner agitation.

‘Of what nature was this… success?’ enquired Lord Faa very softly.

‘I’m not sure,’ returned Wilf, very subdued. ‘Only that it’s…powerful. That was the word _she_ used.’

Asriel turned away from Wilf, face grim and determined. Van Buskirk rubbed at his eyes, the slump of his shoulders and dejected expression adding years onto him. Lord Faa and Farder Coram exchanged glances.

‘Do you know what Mrs Coulter’s intentions are for this _success_?’ Lee asked.

‘No,’ Wilf whispered. ‘She mentioned having _plans_ for it, but not much else. She was talking to a wolf, most of the time, she didn’t know I was listening. A wolf, a wolf with a daemon…’

Lee glanced back at Asriel. Lyra’s father shook his head, almost imperceptibly. Lee guessed that Asriel had been too stupefied with drugs to take in any of Coulter’s words… assuming she had been telling the truth.

‘I know it sounds mad,’ Wilf continued almost desperately, hands clutching at the hem of his coat. ‘It sounds like I’ve gone doolally, but I’m telling the truth, every single word…’

‘It’s okay, kid, we believe you,’ reassured Lee. ‘We’ve seen some crazier stuff of late.’

Wilf looked at Lee gratefully. Lord Faa waited a moment to allow Wilf’s words to sink in, and then addressed the young man gently.

‘Wilf, you’ve gotten caught up in something very dangerous. It wasn’t your fault. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But there will be some very nasty people searching for you now. You know too much about what was taking place in Jordan College.’

Wilf looked apprehensive.

‘But what am I going to do now, then?’ he asked. ‘I’ve got to go home. My dad’s going to be furious with me for disappearing for two whole days.’

‘Wilf, I strongly advise against going home for a while,’ said Farder Coram. ‘Mrs Coulter will be angry you’ve escaped, and she won’t want you telling tales to the authorities.’

‘I’d promise not to tell anyone anything though –’

‘She’ll kill you if she finds you,’ Asriel said bluntly. ‘No matter what promises you make. You must go into hiding, boy, if you value your life.’

Poor Wilf turned as white as salt. More than one person in the room shot Asriel a poisonous glare, but he was impervious. He folded his arms and turned away from Wilf, eyes focused on something no-one else could see, his brain working out possibilities, schemes, solutions.

‘Wilf, you’re welcome to stay with the Gyptians for a while, until you decide what’s best to do next,’ Lord Faa said, Farder Coram nodding agreement. ‘No-one here will give you away.’

‘I’m in hiding from Mrs Coulter myself,’ added Dr Van Buskirk, reaching over to place a reassuring hand on Wilf’s knee. ‘I’ll help you.’

For some reason, Wilf’s faltering gaze picked out Lee and Serafina.

‘What do you both think I should do?’ he asked softly. ‘Er, you two, the beautiful lady and the man with the hare daemon?’

‘My name’s Lee Scoresby, and this is Serafina Pekkala,’ Lee answered him. ‘I think you should stay with the Gyptians, Wilf. These are good people, they won’t let any harm come to you.’

‘I agree,’ nodded Serafina. ‘I know it is hard, Wilfred, to think of leaving all you know behind, but you have made enemies, however unintentional it was. They will not leave you in peace, not for a long time.’

Wilf took this declaration better than Lee had anticipated. His expression was sombre, but resolute.

‘Then I’ll stay here, if that’s all right,’ he said to Lord Faa. ‘I can work, I’m good at fixing things. I’ll do anything you put me to.’

‘Thank you, Wilf,’ Lord Faa answered. ‘You’ve been most helpful. We’ll let you have a rest now and find a family for you to stay with later.’

Bram stood and beckoned Wilf to follow. The young man stood, daemon fluttering up to perch on his shoulder, and took a step forward. Then he paused and turned towards Lee and Serafina.

‘Umm, thank you. Both of you,’ he mumbled, thrusting out a long-fingered hand. ‘For being the rescue party.’

Lee stood and grasped Wilf’s hand, Wilf turning very red and staring hard at his shoes. Serafina also rose and extended her hand for him to shake, but Wilf took hold of it gently, and with a sudden rush of courage, bent and kissed it in old-fashioned style. Then he bolted for the exit.

Most people in the room watched his departure with fond amusement. Lyra rolled her eyes at his bashfulness, Asriel paid him no mind and Farder Coram regarded the fleeing Wilf with sympathy. For a moment, everyone sat or stood in stillness, considering what they’d just heard. It was Lyra who broke the silence.

‘So, what happens now?’ she asked.

Lee looked towards Asriel, but Lyra’ father was still deep in his musings and said nothing. So, Lee forged ahead.

‘We’ve got a problem,’ Lee said without pausing for deliberation. ‘Our original idea was to bust Asriel out and then head North, hide out there for a while. But if Mrs Coulter’s got some method of turning people into wolfwalkers, then we’ll be leaving one hell of a mess behind us.’

‘More than that,’ Asriel spoke at last. ‘If she can create wolfwalkers, it will give her devastating insight into our weaknesses, our vulnerabilities… and it may even give her the opportunity to destroy those of us who oppose her.’

He spun round to glare at the roomful of people.

‘I have to find out where she is concealing the knowledge she has obtained, where she is carrying out her experiments,’ Asriel announced. ‘Or the wolfwalkers will become slaves to the Magisterium.’

‘Not only the wolfwalkers,’ commented Lee. ‘I’m guessing she’s not going to be asking for volunteers for these experiments. A lot of innocent people are gonna suffer if we don’t act.’

‘Wait,’ said Lyra, standing up and shuffling so she faced Serafina and Lee. ‘Serafina Pekkala, didn’t you say that you could make it, so people weren’t wolfwalkers anymore? That you could… quiet the wolf?’

_That_ got Asriel’s attention. His eyes locked on Serafina in precisely the same manner a falcon would hone on a woodpigeon.

‘I’m afraid that was an untruth, Lyra,’ Serafina said calmly, not at all unsettled by Asriel’s gaze. ‘I said it to hasten Mr Scoresby’s acceptance of his new life. The chance to renounce it prompted him to seriously consider what such a sacrifice would entail, and as I hoped, he and his daemon decided to remain as they are.’

‘Ah, damn, we got hoodwinked,’ grumbled Hester. Lee grinned wryly at Serafina, not particularly discomposed by the revelation.

‘Ooh, clever,’ Lyra said admiringly.

‘If we can return to the subject at hand,’ interrupted Asriel, promptly losing interest in the discussion. ‘We have to locate and destroy Coulter’s experiments. Make absolutely sure she cannot bring our own power to bear against us. I’ll have to investigate and try and locate where she’s hiding.’

‘The basement at Jordan?’ suggested Van Buskirk, but Asriel shook his head.

‘No, she’s too cunning for that,’ he muttered. ‘She’ll be keeping the most valuable information under lock and key somewhere, not to mention this _success_. That boy was something to experiment on in front of the Magisterium, to keep her handlers satisfied. The real work will be going on elsewhere. And I have no idea where! _To hell with it…_ I’ve lost days of searching, chained up like a bloody _pet_!’

‘But we can start searching again now,’ piped up Lyra.

‘Except I have no idea where to begin,’ snarled Asriel. Lee was just about to suggest focusing on what they _could_ do, such as moving the pack someplace safer, when Farder Coram cleared his throat.

‘I think I may be able to assist you there,’ he said.

###

‘Oakley Street,’ said Farder Coram to Lee, Lyra, Asriel, Serafina Pekkala and Julian Van Buskirk. ‘Have you ever heard of it?’

‘I have,’ nodded Asriel. ‘Small, under-funded, disorganised –’

‘And your best hope at this point in time,’ interrupted Farder Coram. He may have been an old, ill man but at that moment Lee could clearly see the warrior he had once been etched upon his features. ‘They may be small, but the work they do is invaluable.’

‘But what are they exactly?’ asked Lyra. Asriel huffed with impatience. Lee gritted his teeth. He hoped Farder Coram would be quick in divulging what he knew, for all their sakes.

They had gathered in the spinney near the oak tree, after Farder Coram had requested privacy from the other Gyptians. Rather to Lee’s surprise, Lord Faa and Ma Costa had accepted this readily, but Derrick and Tony, bursting with curiosity, had almost had to be held down in place as their motley band departed. Lord Asriel had mentioned Lyra staying behind too, but Farder Coram would not brook it.

‘This will affect Lyra, as she is a wolfwalker, and she deserves to hear what I have to say,’ he said gruffly. And that was that.

Now, Farder Coram looked Lyra dead in the eye as he answered her.

‘They are indeed a small organisation, but a very important one,’ he said. ‘Basically, their purpose is to safeguard Brytish democracy and freedom of thought against the Magisterium. I am not a member, but I know people who are, and I have lent them my assistance on several occasions.’

Lyra grinned gleefully at this revelation. Lee smiled too, though Asriel remained stony-faced.

‘Most recently, I have been contacted by Oakley Street with regards to monitoring Magisterium activity within the vicinity of Oxford,’ Farder Corman continued. ‘Unsurprisingly, given Alderman Danvers’s request for Magisterium security and the visits by the head of the Consistorial Court of Discipline. I’ve been acting as a go-between, basically, leaving messages at designated drop-off points, delivering warnings or updates and so forth. They’ve been gathering information about the Magisterium’s interest in these wolf hunts, and their presence at Jordan College, and I believe they may be able to tell us where Coulter is conducting the bulk of her experiments – if they are willing.’

‘What are you basing that on, sir?’ asked Lee.

‘I know for a fact that they have an operative working in the Council’s finance department,’ answered Farder Coram. ‘And also, that the Magisterium is very particular about keeping track of its money. If Mrs Coulter is funding research into the wolfwalkers, she is either doing it through private means or funnelling Magisterium funds into it.’

‘And I’m guessing it would be too expensive for her to manage it privately, wealthy woman or not,’ Lee murmured. Farder Coram nodded.

‘Very probably. If Mrs Coulter has set up a private laboratory, I believe it will be somewhere nearby, so as to allow her to monitor its progress. Which means in turn, the money will be passed to someone with land or a building within the vicinity of Oxford.’

‘The Magisterium won’t be channelling its money through the Council, surely,’ said Dr Van Buskirk. ‘It will want it kept as secret as possible.’

‘True, but in recent years it has been the law that all purchases or renting of lands or buildings worth more than ten thousand dollars _must_ be recorded and verified by the City Council,’ Farder Coram explained. ‘In practice, this simply means the information goes into the Council archives. But it’s there, and if Mrs Coulter is renting a property somewhere, with Magisterium money –’

‘There will be a record of it at the Town Hall,’ finished Asriel, a look of fierce satisfaction on his face.

‘Almost certainly,’ nodded Farder Coram. ‘Mrs Coulter may be masking her intent, but she’ll be following the Magisterium’s rules regarding funding, to avoid attracting suspicion. The information will be written down somewhere.’

‘Can you ask one of your associates to pass it onto us?’ Lee asked straightforwardly.

‘Yes, I can ask,’ Farder Coram answered, and Lee noted he hadn’t promised to obtain it.

‘But will they?’ he pressed. Farder Coram sighed.

‘They will try, I am sure, but I cannot promise anything,’ he acknowledged. ‘They may not be willing to take the risk right now, or our contact may not be able to access the files. The Council has been growing increasingly paranoid under Danvers’s leadership.’

‘Just do your best, Farder Coram,’ said Lee.

‘How long will this take?’ Asriel demanded.

‘Hard to say,’ Farder Coram answered frankly. ‘I will approach my contact at once, but as to when they will come back to me with an answer… it might be hours. It might be days.’

Asriel looked unhappy at this appraisal but said nothing. Lee eyed him carefully. He hoped Asriel wasn’t going to take matters into his own hands. He didn’t think he had the energy for a second rescue mission.

‘So, we find out where this laboratory is,’ he mused out loud. ‘Then we raid it, destroy the research, get the pack up to the Lake Country –’

‘And we head for the North,’ Lyra finished for him. Lee nodded. He cast another wary glance at Asriel, having already learned the man did not take kindly to having decisions made for him. But Lyra’s father actually looked approving.

‘I have contacts in the North, men who can be trusted, or at least coerced,’ Asriel commented. ‘And I know plenty of decent hiding places. The difficulty will be getting up there to begin with.’

‘Lee has his balloon,’ Lyra chimed in.

‘And the Gyptians will assist you, I am sure,’ Farder Coram said, smiling a little. ‘We are used to moving without attracting Magisterium attention.’

‘Much appreciated,’ said Lee, with his habitual tip of his hat.

‘Contact your source as soon as possible, Farder Coram,’ said Asriel. ‘In the meantime, I will head back to the forest, begin packing up my research.’

‘I can help,’ Lyra suggested, but Asriel shook his head.

‘No, I have a specific method of organising my files that would take too long to explain,’ he said, not unkindly. ‘Remain here with the Gyptians and wait for news.’

Lyra looked rebellious. Lee exchanged glances with Hester.

‘Actually, Lord Asriel, I was thinking we could head back to the forest with you,’ he suggested, keeping his voice casual. ‘The pack will be wondering about what’s happened to us, and I reckon Lyra’s the best one to explain to them that they’re going to be moving on. For my part, I want to get Iorek Byrnison away from the river. Too much chance of him being spotted hereabouts.’

‘That makes sense. Very well, Scoresby, we’ll set out in a few minutes, once I’ve spoken with Lord Faa,’ Asriel said, easily enough, and Lee heaved an internal sigh of relief. ‘I will return here this evening, Farder Coram, to check on progress with Oakley Street.’

‘No need,’ said Serafina, who had been silent throughout the discussion, but no doubt listening intently. ‘I will remain with the Gyptians and wait for news. I will fly to the forest, or send Kasia, as soon as we have word.’

‘Thank you, Serafina Pekkala,’ Asriel murmured, quite courteously for him. ‘Come on then, Lyra, Scoresby. Let’s make our farewells and return to the forest.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like the wolfwalkers won't be taking off for the North just yet... there's a new threat looming, and they can't afford to ignore it. But what exactly is the nature of the 'success'? You'll have to wait and see.
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


	23. The Temple in Eastern Siberia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wolfwalkers return to Badbury forest, and Asriel finally tells Lyra and Lee the story about how he became a wolfwalker.
> 
> TW: mention of attempted sexual assault. It’s very vague, but it’s there.

Their goodbyes to the Gyptians took a while, as Ma Costa wasn’t willing to bid farewell to Lyra without a fight. Tony and Derrick were also reluctant to say goodbye, even asking to accompany them back to the forest, and Lee had a hard time persuading them that they would be better off with their families. Eventually Van Buskirk pointed out that they had promised to source some gas for Lee’s balloon, and they subsided, though Derrick hung round Lee and Hester till the last possible moment.

At long last, after Lee and Lyra promised faithfully to return as soon as it was safe, the Gyptians, Van Buskirk and a recovering Wilf let them go. With Iorek in tow, they set off back to the den.

Their journey back to the forest was obviously far too slow for Asriel’s tastes. Although unconcerned by their circuitous route, he chafed under the need to scout ahead, to avoid all rubber-neckers and to hide when it proved impossible to avoid encountering walkers or farm workers. But with Iorek Byrnison accompanying them, they had little choice. And as Lee pointed out to Asriel, no doubt the Council had concocted some tale about a wanted criminal with a snow leopard daemon by that point, and secrecy was paramount.

Asriel, unmoved, continued to be aggravated by their sedate pace and after thirty minutes or so strode on ahead, head held high and all his lineaments proclaiming that he feared neither man nor beast. Lee wasn’t sure whether to despise his arrogance or admire his fearlessness. He thought Lyra might hurry on ahead to walk with her father, but she stayed beside him and Iorek, sauntering along happily enough.

Asriel walked on, though Lee noticed he was never out of their view, nor they out of his if he cared to turn round. After a while, Lee saw Asriel’s daemon looking up at him, Asriel looking down, obviously carrying on some conversation. Realising that they were safely out of earshot, he turned to Lyra.

‘Lyra, what did you and your father talk about earlier?’ he asked.

‘Not a lot,’ Lyra shrugged. ‘But he told me he was sorry, that he’d been too hard on me.’ She paused, giving Lee a sidelong glance. ‘And he mentioned the reason he’d been angry was… well, he said whenever a human is turned into a wolfwalker, it’s a huge risk. All he’s taught me, all I’ve told you…he said we’ve barely scratched the surface of what we’re capable of.’

Lee mulled this over for a few moments as they strolled along. Iorek, striding along behind them, made no remark, though Lee knew the bear was listening closely.

‘Is he worried I’ll turn on you, perhaps?’ Lee asked. But Lyra shook her head.

‘No, I don’t think so. Father’s impressed with you.’

Lee snorted indelicately.

‘He is,’ Lyra insisted. ‘He’s always impressed by people who can stand up to him. And he asked me if you’d done a good job taking care of me, and I told him no-one could’ve done a better one.’

‘Hmm,’ said Lee, slightly reassured by this proof of parental concern, no matter how fleeting.

‘But I think what he’s worried about is if our power gets out of control, or if we get swallowed up by it,’ Lyra continued. ‘He’s never mentioned that before, I didn’t know it was possible.’

‘All power is dangerous, kid,’ Lee muttered, wondering what the hell Asriel had meant by those cryptic statements. ‘I think we need to have a talk with Asriel sometime, find out exactly what he means.’

‘You’d better ask him,’ Lyra grumbled. ‘He never wants to tell me anything.’

‘He’s gonna have to start,’ Lee commented. ‘If he’s worried about us getting – _overwhelmed_ , by what we are, by being wolfwalkers… well, we’re not gonna be able to fight against it if we don’t know what we’re fighting.’

They walked on a little further. The butter-yellow spring sun was climbing towards its zenith. Lee peered up at it from beneath his hat brim, marvelling that it wasn’t yet midday. He felt as if he’d lived an entire day already. He recalled his conversation with Ma Costa, the revelation about Lyra’s mother. Should he tell her? Ma Costa hadn’t sworn him to secrecy, but then it was clear that for whatever reason that Asriel didn’t want her to know. Surely as his father, he had his reasons…

Lee sighed. He thought of the way Asriel regarded everyone, his detached expression and appraising gaze, as if the world were his chessboard and its people pieces to be moved for his amusement or benefit. He thought of Asriel’s cool treatment of his only daughter. People expressed love in different ways, Lee knew that, but Asriel’s attitude towards Lyra disturbed him. It was as if she were merely a responsibility to be discharged, rather than a daughter to be loved.

‘What are we going to do next? Will we move the pack first, or destroy Mrs Coulter’s lair?’ Lyra asked him and Lee dragged himself out of his sombre musings.

‘Well, we need to confirm it with Asriel, but I suppose it depends on how quickly Farder Coram can find out where this secret lab is located,’ Lee answered. ‘If it takes him a while to get the information, we might as well move the wolves on. But if his contacts are quick, we’d better strike at the lab and destroy it first. Either way, once we’ve done both, we light out for the North.’

Lyra nodded assent.

‘Will we fly to the North?’ she queried. ‘In your balloon?’

‘We could,’ Lee answered. ‘It’d be a long journey, though.’

‘Too long for me,’ grumbled Iorek behind them. ‘I am not fond of flying. Bears are not meant to fly.’

Lyra giggled, and Lee grinned.

‘Perhaps there’s another way, old fellow,’ he said. ‘The Gyptians will be willing to help, I’m sure. If we could get to a northern port, maybe up in Scotland, that would shorten the journey. Or even go by ship as far as Trollesund or Bergen, and then go from there to Bolvangar.’

‘Much better,’ grunted Iorek.

‘It all depends on the winds, though,’ Lee informed Lyra, glancing around to check if there was anyone other than Asriel in the vicinity. He spied no-one, so carried on talking. ‘An aeronaut’s always at the mercy of the weather. If you want to go one way and the wind’s blowing the other, well, you either wait for it to change or you change your destination.’

He glanced up at the sky.

‘Like today. There’s a shift in the weather coming, and it’s likely to turn wet, which is good in some ways, bad in others. Fair weather means you don’t have to deal with rain and hail and so forth. On the other hand, it can mean the winds aren’t as strong. Getting becalmed is a nuisance.’

Lyra stared up at the sky in puzzlement.

‘How do you know the weather’s going to change?’ she asked him. Lee pointed to some thin, wispy clouds high overhead, covering half the sky.

‘See those? Cirrus clouds. When there’s that many of them, it means there’ll be a change in the weather, usually in the next day or so. It’s probably going to rain soon. That’s no trouble for the balloon, so long as the rain’s not too heavy, but if there’s a thunderstorm, it’s better not to be in the air.’

‘Cirrus clouds,’ murmured Lyra. Pantalaimon, a blackbird on her shoulder, chirruped enthusiastically.

‘Yeah, I’ll have to teach you how to read the sky if we’re going flying,’ Lee murmured without thinking. He could have smacked himself a moment later (who knew what plans Asriel had, once their tasks here were accomplished?) but Lyra looked so thrilled at this prospect he didn’t have the heart to squelch her joy.

‘What sort of things do I need to know to be an aeronaut?’ she demanded.

‘Well, knowing the weather for one thing. Astronomy – using the stars for navigation. I have a compass, and a spare compass, but if they get busted or lost, I need to know how to find my way. And math is good for a pilot, too. Calculating the weight, depending on what you’re carrying, what adjustments to make to the instruments…can be a complicated business. I go by instinct, if I’m in a hurry, but it’s better to work things out properly or you’ll run into trouble down the road.’

‘I’m good at maths,’ Lyra beamed. ‘Father always insisted on teaching it to me. And I’ll study the weather, too. What about those clouds over there?’

‘Cumulus clouds, kid. Means the weather’s fair for the time being.’

They made their meandering way back to Badbury Forest, chatting about clouds and weather systems as they went, Iorek occasionally butting in with information about the currents in the oceans and how they affected the weather. Once they reached the forest edge, Asriel speeded up yet again and was soon lost to view amongst the trees.

No-one seemed to mind.

###

They reached the den not far behind Asriel, despite their slower pace and occasional pauses to look at cloud formations. Iorek settled himself outside while Lyra and Lee squeezed through the tunnel to be swarmed over by an exultant pack of wolves. Once they’d greeted everyone (and Rattail had chased Hester round the den until the daemon had finally given in and allowed the wolf to cuddle her) Lee went to see what Asriel was doing.

The man was in his sleeping cave, methodically sorting through his belongings and riffling through sheafs of paper, sorting the wheat from the chaff. He was preoccupied, and merely grunted when Lee volunteered to begin sorting through their supplies, seeing what would be needed for the journey to the North. Lee chose to take that as a _yes_.

‘Lyra, honey,’ he said, as he walked back into the centre of the den. ‘I’d have a word with the wolves, let them know they’ll have to move on very soon. I’m gonna sort through your supplies, see what you can take to the North.’

Lyra nodded assent to this plan, and immediately began chivvying the wolves away from whatever they were engaged in, ready to explain matters to them. As much as she could, anyway. Lee left them to it and began rummaging through the supply cave, seeking out what would be useful in the North and what could be safely left behind.

As Lee suspected, Asriel had plenty of equipment that could be used or adapted for an expedition to the North – crampons, climbing ropes, blankets, lightweight cooking gear – but very little in the way of warm clothing. He began packing up items, nonetheless, chatting with Hester as he did so.

‘We’ll have to get the kid some proper cold weather gear,’ she remarked as Lee stuffed some gloves into the kitbag he’d found. ‘Specially if we’re heading up to Bolvangar. Is there a tent in there?’

‘Can’t see one,’ Lee muttered. ‘I’ll add it to the list. We can use the balloon’s basket in a pinch. Or Iorek might be able to give us shelter.’

He tossed aside an old jumper that looked very much as if it had been worried by a wolf pup at some point, and began rummaging in another box, when his hand closed on something cool and heavy.

Lee pulled out what looked like a small box worked in some sort of golden metal. He prised it open and beheld what looked like a strange kind of compass, or a small clock. It was extraordinarily weighty in his hand and was beautifully crafted. There were pictures painted all around the dial, exquisitely rendered by the finest of paintbrushes. A beehive, a compass, an elephant, a tree… and hands to point at the symbols, three of them.

Hester loped over to peer at it, just as fascinated as Lee was.

‘What is it?’ she murmured.

‘I’m not sure,’ Lee whispered back. He wasn’t sure why he’d lowered his voice, but something about the object had inspired awe in him. ‘It’s beautiful – but what’s it for?’

‘Ain’t sure,’ said Hester. ‘Is it a toy?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Lee answered. ‘Too finely-worked for that. And feeling the weight of it, I think it’s made out of gold.’

‘Cripes,’ breathed Hester. ‘Shall we ask Asriel what it is?’

‘Looks valuable,’ Lee murmured back. ‘We’d better ask him what he wants to do with it.’

As if their mention of his name had summoned him, Asriel came striding out of his sleeping cave. Lee glanced over at him and Lyra, who was playing with Towser and Acorn, stopped dead and stared at him, waiting for a cue.

‘Scoresby, Lyra,’ Asriel said without preamble. ‘We need to have a talk. I have some questions about what’s transpired in my absence and I think I ought to explain a few things about the wolfwalkers to you, Scoresby.’

Lee rose, stuffing the golden compass into his coat pocket as he did so, resolving to ask Asriel about it once the other man had said his piece. Asriel was standing, arms folded in what seemed to be a habitual pose. Lee walked over and settled himself on the rock he and Lyra had been using as a bench. He wasn’t thrilled about having Asriel looming over him like a schoolteacher, but it would be ridiculous to stand opposite as if they were about to draw on one another.

Lyra skipped over and settled herself besides Lee and Hester. Pantalaimon, in ermine shape, nestled against Hester and peered at an impassive Stelmaria.

‘Scoresby,’ Asriel said at once. ‘What has Lyra taught you, about being a wolfwalker?’

‘All she knows,’ Lee said, rather pointedly. ‘I’m a man when I’m awake, a wolf when I’m asleep. We can talk to wild wolves, ask them to help us out. We can heal injuries, and we’re stronger than most humans.’

‘That’s a good start,’ Asriel remarked. ‘But there’s more to it than that.’

‘You never told me about more,’ Lyra muttered.

‘I preferred you to learn about it gradually,’ Asriel returned, unruffled. ‘Wolfwalkers have tremendous power, and I thought learning too much at once would be overwhelming for you.’

Lyra looked mutinous but said nothing. Lee regarded Asriel carefully.

‘Are you going to tell us now, then?’ Lee enquired, politely enough. ‘I for one would like to know exactly what I’ve become.’

‘Yes, I think I must,’ sighed Asriel. ‘As much as I am aware of, at any rate.’

Lee narrowed his eyes as he stared up at Asriel.

‘You weren’t born a wolfwalker, were you?’ he asked – though there was no questioning in his voice. ‘You’re like me. You got bitten and had to work it all out for yourself.’

Asriel pressed his lips together and said nothing for a long moment. Lyra gazed at her father consideringly, as if she’d just had a suspicion confirmed. Lee waited patiently. Then Asriel spoke.

‘When I was twenty-two, I went on an expedition to Eastern Siberia,’ he said, voice flat. ‘As part of an experimental theological team gathering data about the aurora in the Eastern Hemisphere.’

‘Remarkable place,’ said Lee to Lyra, as Asriel paused. ‘The only place in the world where leopards, tigers and brown bears all live alongside each other.’

‘True, though I wasn’t there for the wildlife,’ Asriel continued. ‘I was there for knowledge, but a month in the expedition wasn’t going well. The weather wasn’t in our favour, and we hadn’t gotten any decent readings of the aurora. I grew… impatient. And then, when we were visiting a fishing village to replenish supplies, the villagers made mention of a shaman. A powerful one, who could work remarkable magic. Who could make the skies do her bidding.’

‘Did you go to find her?’ Lyra asked eagerly. Asriel huffed.

‘Of course, I did. I didn’t have any belief in magic or so forth – at the time – but I’d heard of the witches in the North and thought perhaps she’d learned a trick or two that would clear the skies. I set out into the wilderness, alone, in search of her. For three days, I had no luck, found nothing. On the fourth day, I found a wolf. Caught in a trap, starving to death. For some reason I felt compelled to set it free and got bitten on the arm for my pains.’

Asriel fell silent for a moment, remembering.

‘It wasn’t a bad wound. I stitched myself up and carried on. The next day, I was hiking through the woods and I saw the wolf again,’ he continued. ‘It wanted me to follow it. It wasn’t a rational decision on my part… I simply _knew_ that the wolf wanted me to accompany it. It led me to a temple, on a mountainside. A very steep, quite hazardous ascent. Once I got up there, it led me inside and I saw a woman sleeping in there. A woman with a great owl for a daemon, of a kind I’d never seen before.’

‘Was she a wolfwalker?’ Lyra asked eagerly. Asriel nodded.

‘She was. She jumped back into herself, turned human, and woke. I was stunned, but she was quite composed. She sat me down, gave me hot soup and explained what had occurred. I had quite a shock when it turned out she could speak decent English, but it was useful.’

‘What was her name?’ interrupted Lyra.

‘That’s not relevant –’

‘I’d like to know her name, too,’ said Lee.

‘As I was saying –’

‘Her name, Asriel,’ rumbled Iorek from outside the den.

‘Her name was Khadne and her daemon was Ilia. Now shut up and pay attention. She was the daughter of a rich nobleman from Muscovy, an ambitious man. Before she turned fifteen, before her daemon settled, she’d been betrothed to an eminent politician three times her age. She refused to marry him, and her father beat her. So, she took all her jewels, sold them and then fled into the wilderness.’

‘Brave girl,’ remarked Lee. Asriel regarded him coldly.

‘A foolish girl. But she showed her courage in what came next. She ran as far and as fast as her money would take her. Ended up in a fishing village in Eastern Siberia, working in the local tavern. A man tried to take what wasn’t his and she beat him over the head with a log. Then she ran again, into the mountain, to the temple she’d led me to.’

Asriel paused then, fierce expression softening slightly as he reminisced.

‘She hadn’t known of the temple’s existence until she was fleeing the village. Khadne told me she’d been wandering, cold and exhausted, through the forest when she saw a light from the mountainside. She followed it and came to the temple. It was an ancient, sacred place. Built in the eighth century, I found out afterwards. She found sanctuary there, but it wasn’t long before she realised that there were strange phenomena occurring.’

‘I didn’t witness anything during my stay, but she mentioned strange lights, objects being teleported from one side of the temple to the other, footsteps when no-one was there to make them… and one night, not long after she arrived there, Khadne had a vision.’

‘She said she had come into the temple from setting snares, and found a woman waiting for her. A woman with red hair, she said, who spoke in a language she didn’t understand, but which her daemon did. This…woman, lay down and turned her spirit into a wolf. She offered Khadne the power to do the same, on condition she remain and guard the temple until someone came to relieve her of her duty. Khadne agreed, and the wolf bit her, before healing the injury. Then the woman vanished, and Khadne never saw her again.’

Asriel paused, examining Lee and Lyra closely for their reactions. Lyra was wide-eyed, open-mouthed, but Lee kept his face impassive.

‘A couple of nights later… well, you can guess what happened. Khadne had been there ever since, a wolfwalker in the midst of the wilderness, guarding the temple as she had been instructed.’

‘And she instructed you in turn?’ Lee guessed. Asriel nodded.

‘Yes. I transformed for the first time two days later. Khadne told me all she knew – the healing abilities, the power over wild wolves. But there was more.’

Asriel sucked in a deep breath and plunged into his revelation as a man might jump from a clifftop into the sea.

‘That temple, the place where it was built… for centuries, the locals believed it was a gateway, a door between the spirit world and our world. They were partially right. It was a doorway between two worlds – not the spirit world, but a world similar to our own.’

‘Holy hell,’ muttered Lee. Lyra looked entranced.

‘The power of the wolfwalkers originated in this other world, according to Khadne,’ Asriel continued. ‘The wolfwalker who gifted Khadne came from there. And Khadne’s duty as guardian of the temple was to protect this doorway – prevent any threats that might emerge from the other world, but also stop anyone with ill intent going through from our world.’

‘I’m guessing you mean the Magisterium?’ Lee asked. Asriel nodded.

‘Yes, although I know of a few conglomerates that would be eager to exploit such a discovery. Regardless, she told me that the greatest gift the wolfwalkers possessed was an ability to move between worlds. The human world and the world of the wolves, of course, but also this world and others.’

‘There’s more than one?’ Lyra queried, eyes bright. Asriel’s daemon laughed softly, and Lyra’s face twisted into a scowl. Hester bristled and kicked a glob of dirt right in the snow leopard’s face, causing her to sputter in outrage. Pantalaimon turned into a magpie and crowed a defiant ‘ha! Ha!’ Lee looked down at his boots to hide the smirk on his face.

‘Less horseplay, you lot,’ Asriel snapped. ‘Scoresby, get your daemon under control.’

‘Been trying to do that all my life with no luck,’ Lee answered cheerily. ‘Your daemon’s a big girl, she can handle it.’

‘Hmph,’ said Stelmaria.

‘ _As I was saying_ ,’ Asriel continued with feeling, ‘there are other worlds besides this one. Hundreds of thousands – millions of other worlds. They aren’t part of this universe at all – even the furthest stars are part of our universe, but not the other worlds that exist alongside our own. We are as close as a heartbeat, but we can never see or touch or know these other worlds. Except in a very few places, like Khadne’s temple.’

Lee studied Asriel’s face painstakingly, seeking out even the merest suggestion of deception, any indication that the man was lying (no way was Asriel joking, the man took himself far too seriously for that) but perceived nothing untoward.

‘Lee,’ murmured Hester at his feet. ‘Do you remember, a few years ago, flying across Nova Zembla? The northern lights – we thought it was just an accident, a beautiful accident…’

The memory surfaced in Lee’s mind like a whale breaching the ocean waves, crashing into everything he thought he knew about the world.

‘I remember!’ he exclaimed and turned to an inquisitive Lyra before she could jump in with questions. ‘Two years ago, we were flying above Nova Zembla, and the northern lights were dancing across the sky… Hester and me were watching them, and then, as clearly as I see you, kid, we saw a city in the sky. Only for a moment – but it was a city. Towers, buildings, bridges, all as if the aurora itself had made them. It was there in the sky and then it wasn’t. We thought we’d dreamed it, or that it had been the aurora making shapes that looked like a city…’

‘But it was another world?’ asked Lyra, spell-bound, her eyes shining.

‘It was,’ interjected Asriel. ‘I have seen similar phenomena myself. The charged particles of the aurora have the property of making the matter of this world thin, allowing us to see through it for a short while.’

‘Cripes,’ said Lee. ‘So, you think the wolfwalkers come from one of these worlds?’

‘I know it,’ Asriel answered, voice adamantine with certainty. Lee wondered what that was like: the ability to never doubt, never wonder, never deviate from your planned course. Or perhaps it was an inability.

‘This is the wolfwalkers’ greatest gift,’ Asriel carried on. ‘Not only to see other worlds, but to move between them. Our spirits leave our human bodies at night, enter another world, the world of wolves, of animals and wild things…why should we not move between different universes? Khadne did so all the time. Her spirit would leave her body, and pass through the matter of this world, and into another.’

‘Her daemon?’ asked Lee. He felt Hester’s little heart thumping with fear and excitement, as if it were beating in his own chest.

‘Ilia could accompany her,’ Asriel acknowledged. Then, bitterly: ‘Though I am not sure how.’

The silence that followed was so taught Lee felt as if he could extend a hand and twang it like the string on Serafina Pekkala’s bow. So, of course, he broke it.

‘Because she never taught you,’ Lee said recklessly. ‘You pissed Khadne off before she got round to showing you how to move between worlds, and you’ve been trying to work it out ever since.’

Lee had expected Asriel to lose his temper following this blunt, tactless guess. To glare at the aeronaut with eyes full of poison, to curse at him, even to swing for him. But Asriel did none of those things. He merely looked at Lee, one corner of his mouth turned upwards, as if pleasantly surprised.

‘You’re an astute man, Scoresby,’ said Asriel. Lee felt Lyra’s hand squeezing his upper arm and looked down at her looking up. Her face was full of pride.

 _Told you,_ she mouthed. Lee, embarrassed for some reason he didn’t care to examine too closely, turned back to Asriel.

‘So, what happened?’ he asked, rather needlessly.

‘Khadne had one rule for me – never go into the central room in the temple,’ Asriel answered shortly. ‘I believe it was where the doorway to the other world was located, but I’m not sure. I was young and stupid and curious. So, I went in.’

Pause. Two wolves yipped at each other. Lee and Lyra waited. Asriel sighed, very faintly, and carried on.

‘To this day, I don’t know what that room contained. One moment I was stepping across the threshold, the next I was running through the forest in wolf form, utterly alone. Not even Stelmaria was with me. I was raving, desperate – I couldn’t remember my name, let alone that I was a man, a man with a daemon. All I had were images, feelings, of the life I’d had, and I could make no sense of them. I lived as a beast in that forest, I don’t know for how long. I lost all track of time.’

‘I hunted for prey as a wolf would, I had those instincts at least, but I was unpractised. I started to raid human settlements when I began to starve. One day, I fell into a wolf pit, a hole dug by hunters, and I couldn’t free myself. I was trapped there, until Khadne found me. I remember seeing her, at the rim of the pit, calling me every name under the sun, and that was when I came back to myself. I recalled my name, and hers.’

‘She rescued me, got me back to my human form and Stelmaria, and then threw me out of the temple, cursing me, saying that the way to that sacred place would be barred to me forevermore. I thought she’d just lost her temper with me, that she’d relent… I went to the nearest village, waited a few days, and then went seeking the temple again.’

‘I hunted for months. Combed every inch of those blasted, uncharted mountains. Followed up every lead the locals could give me, but I never found the temple again, and I never saw Khadne again. Eventually, there was nothing for it but to return to civilization, return to my work. And try and puzzle out for myself what I might have learned, had I not been so headstrong.’

‘And have you?’ Lyra asked with eager impatience. ‘Have you learned how to travel between worlds?’

‘I’ve made some progress,’ Asriel answered coldly, his demeanour turning harsh and unwelcoming. ‘But it’s a difficult, almost impossible thing to accomplish. I’ve nearly driven myself mad more than once – and I don’t mean that in a metaphorical sense. We walk a dangerous path, Lyra, Scoresby. It was why I have always been loath to create new wolfwalkers. Such power in the hands of the wrong person would be perilous, and if they learn such things as moving between worlds – or if they go crazy attempting such – the results could be catastrophic.’

‘So, why keep attempting it?’ Lee asked, genuinely curious. ‘You’ve got extraordinary abilities already. Why keep trying to find a way into another world if it might drive you insane?’

Asriel’s answering smile put Lee eerily in mind of a glutton sitting down to consume an enormous banquet.

‘Because our world is subject to powerful, oppressive forces,’ he informed Lee and Lyra, eyes lighting up with fervour. ‘The Magisterium being one, but there are others. Corporations, corrupt governments, men with obscene amounts of wealth and no morals… I want to stand against those forces, drag them down and expose them for the hollow, shabby facades they are. I want to be free of them – if I could prove beyond all doubt that there are other worlds, that the Magisterium’s teachings are incorrect, then it would be a serious blow to them. The greatest since they conceded the earth orbits the sun.’

Lee surveyed Asriel thoughtfully. His statements sounded lofty, noble even, but his zeal put Lee in mind of some of the Magisterium fanatics he’d encountered over the years. They were the kind of men who would sacrifice everything, everyone to their aims, convinced they were doing God’s work and unconcerned with the pain and suffering they inflicted in the process.

His emotions must have shown on his face, for Asriel paused to survey the aeronaut in turn.

‘You seem… unconvinced, Scoresby,’ Asriel said.

‘I’m no supporter of the Magisterium,’ Lee answered frankly. ‘Anything that will curb their power, I’m broadly in favour of. But I ain’t the kind of man who’s willing to do anything and everything to achieve that. If moving between worlds is gonna cost me my sanity, well…’

‘This is greater than any one man, Scoresby,’ Asriel returned, his voice flat but his eyes assessing.

‘Ain’t saying it isn’t,’ Lee answered. ‘But I’m not the kind of man who’s prepared to do anything to realise his aims. I’ve met plenty of people who’ll do just that. Problem is, those aims don’t always come to pass. The world changes, or their circumstances change, and then all they’re left with is the consequences of their actions. Ain’t a pleasant position to be in.’

‘The world needs men prepared to take that risk,’ Asriel argued back. Stelmaria narrowed her eyes at Hester, who returned her gaze steadily. ‘You may have principles of your own, Scoresby, but you can be sure our enemies won’t. Adhering to some abstract code of conduct, some concept of personal honour, is a weakness the Magisterium doesn’t share.’

‘That’s why it’s so important. It separates us from them,’ Lee said. His voice was mild, but as far as he was concerned that was his last word on the subject. He glanced down at Lyra, who was listening avidly. Her hand was still gripping his arm, tighter and tighter.

‘Kid? Care to add anything?’ he asked her. Asriel scoffed.

‘She’s too young to understand,’ he began.

‘She’s old enough to learn,’ Lee shot back. ‘And this is Lyra’s struggle, just as much as yours or mine. She deserves to have a say.’

Asriel frowned but made no riposte. Stelmaria glanced up at him, then back at Lee and Lyra, tail flicking disapprovingly. Lyra let go of Lee’s arm and propped her chin on her fists, staring thoughtfully into the middle distance.

‘The Magisterium are our enemies,’ she murmured after a minute. ‘We got to fight against them, and if that means going into another world, then I agree with my father. _But_ –’ raising her voice, ‘– we shouldn’t hurt people to do it. We’re part wolf. The wolves hunt and fight for survival, not because they get angry or want to prove summing or anything like that, and I don’t think we should neither.’

‘Yeah, the wolves ain’t dumb,’ murmured Hester. Pantalaimon turned into his ermine form and leapt over to snuggle against Hester in agreement.

Asriel raised an eyebrow, and Lee knew he was preparing to argue back against Lyra. But whatever rebuttal he was about to hurl was destined to remain unspoken, for someone else spoke before he could.

‘Wolves are indeed intelligent creatures,’ said Serafina Pekkala, making everyone jump. She had landed in the den so softly and skilfully that even Asriel hadn’t heard her coming. She was clad in a shabby brown coat and even wore a pair of shoes, though there was no concealing her grace and beauty. Kasia perched on the bluff and peered down at them all with gentle amusement.

‘Ma’am,’ Lee greeted her. ‘Got some news for us?’

‘Yes, and it came quicker than we anticipated,’ Serafina replied. ‘It seems Oakley Street had already acquired the information we seek and are willing to pass it to us. They have named a meeting place and time. If we leave now, we shall just about be there in time. Farder Coram and Dr Van Buskirk are already on their way.’

‘Brilliant! Let’s go!’ cried Lyra, bolting for the tunnel before anyone could say anything more.

‘I should make her wait here,’ Asriel muttered to himself. ‘She’s a handful at the best of times.’

‘I’ll keep an eye on her,’ Lee told him. ‘Besides, she’ll get into less trouble with us than hanging about here.’

Asriel gave a curt nod and strode off towards the tunnel. Lee and Serafina exchanged wry glances.

‘I’ll have a word with Iorek, ask him to stay here with the wolves,’ Lee said, smiling to himself as Tracker and Acorn played tug-of-war with a sturdy stick. ‘Whereabouts are we headed for, ma’am?’

‘To a property belonging to a school,’ answered Serafina. ‘A school overseen by a woman called Hannah Relf. Now, here –’

She tossed him a long, narrow bundle. Lee unwrapped it and found an old but clean blue coat and cloth cap, and for some reason, a canvas bag containing a fishing rod.

‘Courtesy of Derrick Volantyne and Tony Costa,’ Serafina informed him. ‘They were worried you’d stand out too much in your current garments, it’s why Ma Costa lent me this coat and shoes. The bag is for hiding your rifle in.’

‘Those guys are smart,’ murmured Lee, impressed. ‘Remind me to buy them both a drink if I get the chance.’

‘Lee, where are you?’ came Lyra’s voice from outside the den. ‘Father’s in a hurry – so am I!’

‘On my way,’ Lee called back, shucking his hat and coat off and donning his disguise, stuffing his own clothes and rifle in the fishing rod bag and slinging it over his shoulder before going to shuffle his way through the tunnel.

It wasn’t until their journey was well underway that Lee recollected the golden compass, stuffed into his coat pocket, which in turn was stuffed into his bag. But as there wasn’t anything, he could do about it, he refrained from mentioning it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khadne is based upon a real person. A naturalist called Jonathan C. Slaght has written an amazing book called 'Owls of the Eastern Ice' about his efforts to conserve the Blakiston's Fish Owl (the largest owl species in the world). In the book, he describes meeting a hermit near a temple atop a mountain. The hermit describes strange occurrences at the temple, and is confident that it has a purpose for him. Khadne is loosely based upon this man - and her daemon is of course a Blakiston's Fish Owl.
> 
> So, the alethiometer has turned up! It's not going to play a big role in this story, but it's there. But what has Oakley Street uncovered? You'll have to wait and see!
> 
> Till next time, dear readers...


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